


The Demise of Severus Snape

by Rumaan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Head Boy/Head Girl, Hogwarts, Humour, Romance, Treasured Tropes, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After half his classroom is destroyed by yet another argument between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape snaps and hauls the Head Girl in front of Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster ropes him into a bet concerning the irritating pair and, before long, he’s having to use his wiles to stop them from falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Hawthorn and Vine's Treasured Tropes fest. The prompt for this story was by Scarlettcat and is as follows:  
> After having a conversation about why Draco and Hermione can't get along, Dumbledore ends up betting Snape that they will get together romantically before the end of seventh year. Snape uses his Slytherin wiles to try to influence the outcome of the bet in his favour, but it ends up backfiring spectacularly.
> 
> A really big thanks to River in Egypt who worked her socks off at the last minute so I could get this submitted in time. Seriously, I finished this with about a week before the deadline and she put her own writing on hold so she could edit this for me. So thank you once more, M!
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs solely to JKR. I'm just playing in her sandpit.

Severus Snape was at the end of his tether. He looked over his partially destroyed classroom and had the urge to tear his hair out. Hermione Granger stood in the middle, a Dido amongst the ruins of Carthage. Her nemesis of that day - and every other day that academic year - Draco Malfoy, lay unmoving at her feet.

As usual, the argument had come out of nowhere. All had been quiet, everyone concentrating on brewing their potions, when Draco and Granger had come to blows in the supply cupboard. It had spilled out into the classroom, where Severus had been subjected to the undignified sight of the Head Students wrestling over a vial, screaming at each other, until they’d bumped into Granger’s desk. He wasn’t sure how, but a minute later Granger’s cauldron had exploded, blasting a hole in the nearby wall.

There was complete silence before the inevitable outburst started. Severus put up with this for ten seconds before his voice rang out over the panicking seventh-years.

“Quiet!” he barked.

He moved out from behind his desk and surveyed the disaster zone. He really needed to remember that he was dealing with imbeciles before setting complicated and dangerous potions such as the exploding one he’d set for today’s lesson. Severus strolled over to the unmoving Head Boy and ran a couple of diagnostic spells. It appeared the boy would be fine. He’d just been hit by a chunk of masonry that had been chipped off from the nearest wall. Good job Draco was thick-headed, otherwise Severus would have found himself writing a rather uncomfortable letter to Narcissa.

“Miss Parkinson,” he snapped. “Take Draco up to the Infirmary.”

His Slytherins knew not to question his orders and, although he could see questions in her blue eyes, she followed his orders to the letter. He watched critically as she carefully levitated the unconscious blond and followed the hovering body out of the door. The rest of the Slytherins looked on silently before turning their angry eyes across the room to the Gryffindors.

Severus moved his attention to the bushy haired witch, who hadn’t moved a muscle since the explosion had ripped through the classroom. She looked deeply shocked, which was highly unusual for the infuriating busybody. Her gormless sidekicks stood slightly behind her, Potter blinking at the scene of destruction, whilst Weasley, his mouth gaping wide, moved his eyes from one side of the room to the other. A couple of complicated wand movements later and the classroom was restored to its usual pristine state. Dank and dark the dungeons may have been, but Severus ran the cleanest Potions classroom Hogwarts had ever seen.

He looked around his seventh-year Advanced Potions class. Not many of his students could meet his eyes as the repressed anger radiated out of him. “I want a four-foot essay on why following the exact steps for a potion is an essential part for any competent Potions brewer. I expect it on my desk by next lesson!” he snarled.

There were groans around the classroom. “I will not accept any excuses. If the essay isn’t handed in, then you will receive no mark. Now, everyone out, except Miss Granger.”

This seemed to drag Granger out of her stupefied state. She raised her brown eyes up to his face. He could see the worry radiating out of them. It caused him to internally smile. He loved the fear he could instil in his students, especially the Gryffindors.

“Is Malfoy going to be okay?” she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

Severus frowned. So it wasn’t apprehension at what sadistic punishment he was going to mete out that caused her to be anxious. “He will be fine, no thanks to you, Miss Granger,” he clipped. “However, I find your behaviour sadly lacking the standard required as Hogwarts’ Head Girl. This is a matter that must be brought to the attention of the Headmaster. I will recommend that he strip you of your position.”

Granger flushed and bit her lip. At least the girl had learnt to control her outbursts. The same could not be said of her moronic friends.

“What?!” exclaimed Potter. “You can’t do that! Malfoy was just as much at fault as Hermione, if not more so.”

Severus surveyed his least favourite student with displeasure. “Mr. Potter,” he sneered. “I find it incomprehensible that you have still failed to grasp that not everything concerns you. I don’t believe I asked either you or Mr. Weasley here to stay behind, let alone offer your opinion.”

True to his obnoxious nature, Potter ignored this. “You’re being unfair. Malfoy was the reason why the potion exploded,” the irritating boy continued.

“He threw the extra porcupine quill in,” Weasley joined in.

Ronald Weasley, the other bane of Snape’s existence. The redhead was thicker than mud. If it hadn’t been for that abortive year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, then he wouldn’t be burdened with the two morons in his Advanced Potions class, but sadly, Slughorn’s standards had never matched his.

“That’s enough!” Severus barked. “Potter and Weasley, detention with me tonight at eight.”

“What have we done?” both boys whined unanimously.

_Exist_ , was the thought that ran through Severus’ mind, but he couldn’t voice that. “Not only did you stay behind when I only requested the presence of Miss Granger, you have failed to show the appropriate respect due to your professor.”

Granger nudged the two boys on either side of her and they subsided, scowling at him. That brought him back to Granger. It would be a pleasure to put a dent in her aura of self-assurance. She was too composed and collected. She was also too intelligent. And bossy! Far, far too bossy. He would see her demoted with pleasure. He would put Daphne Greengrass forward as a replacement; what a coup that would be. Minerva McGonagall would be furious. Her favourite pupil stripped of her position through misbehaviour and then replaced by a Slytherin.

He was so caught up in his daydream of triumphing over his Gryffindor counterpart that it took the discreet cough from Granger to bring her back to his attention. Blasted witch. There it was, that look of cool competence that she habitually wore. In fact, the only time he’d seen it leave her face was when she was dealing with Draco. She then descended into a screaming virago, complete with red face and manic hair.

“Miss Granger, come with me!” he snapped.

As he walked around the horribly wholesome trio, he saw her give her friends a warning look. He billowed his robes out, knowing she was trailing after him. It was time to put the jumped-up Gryffindor back in her place - finally.

\---------

Once they reached the Headmaster’s office, many floors above, Severus gave the password. He and Granger rode the moving staircase in silence. He was pleased to observe that she looked anxious, as she should be. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” the pleasant tones of Albus Dumbledore replied.

He flung the door open, ushering Granger in before him.

“Professor Snape, is there a problem?”

“Unfortunately,” he said seriously. “Miss Granger here saw fit to blow half my classroom up and put the Head Boy in the Infirmary. This is conduct most unbefitting for a Hogwarts’ Head Girl and I request that she be removed from her position. It is only through good luck that Mr. Malfoy wasn’t killed.”

Both professors turned to face the anxious Head Girl. “Is this true, Hermione?” Albus asked, looking sternly over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“Well … yes, but it was an accident,” she said nervously.

“So I should hope,” the Headmaster responded.

“The potion was brewing fine and wouldn’t have exploded but Malfoy and I were arguing over the last vial of snake venom. His had been knocked over by Goyle and he wanted the last left in the store cupboard, only I got to it first. In the … er … ensuing melee an extra porcupine quill found itself in my cauldron, which caused it to explode.”

The door banged open and Minerva rushed in, panting. Severus swore under his breath. Maybe he should have made those meddling brats come with them as they had obviously run to get their Head of House. Then again, Potter had some kind of hold over the Headmaster. Albus was revoltingly fond of the boy.

“Be that as it may, Headmaster, I do not find the Head Girl wrestling over a vial of snake venom an edifying sight. It really was lucky that the masonry that hit Mr. Malfoy was not larger. I really don’t think she can continue in her current position. It would send out the message that it’s okay to attempt to kill the Head Boy.”

“As if I’m the only one who wants him dead,” Granger muttered.

Severus glared at her nastily. So, his Slytherins weren’t universally popular. But they were working against prejudice from the rest of the school, who failed to appreciate the significant talents and distinctive characteristics of their house.

“Really, Professor Snape! You are exaggerating. I doubt Miss Granger was attempting to kill the Head Boy. Sorry to barge in, Headmaster, but Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have told me what happened and I feel that it would be grossly unfair to strip Miss Granger of her role as Head Girl over an obvious accident,” Minerva butted in.

The Headmaster steepled his fingers and gazed at all three occupants of his office. Severus swore he could see the hint of a smile on the old man’s lips. He knew there and then that this wasn’t going to go his way. Damnation, he thought. Albus always was a soft touch, especially when it came to Potter and his irritating friends. It had been worth a try, though.

“Whilst I understand your anger, Professor Snape, I cannot see how this was a deliberate act on Miss Granger’s part to sabotage your lesson or kill Draco. Therefore, I don’t see why she should be stripped of her badge for something that was an accident.”

The bushy haired menace let out a massive sigh of relief. “I truly am sorry for the incident, Headmaster,” she said in a sickeningly sweet tone of voice.

Severus sneered and Albus looked at him in obvious amusement. “Make your apology to Professor Snape, child, and be on your way.”

Granger turned to him. “Sorry for destroying your lesson, Professor,” she said primly.

Severus nodded curtly at her and she turned to make her way out of the office, followed by her Head of House, who glared at him before departing. If he didn’t know that Minerva was unscrupulously fair he would be worried that she would take this out on his Slytherins, and dock lots of points.

Although, he _did_ have a class of first-year Gryffindors to come and he wasn’t constrained by boring morals. He would be able to take a good number of points off them and dent the lead they currently held in the House Cup. This cheered him up considerably.

“Severus, I admire your attempts, I really do,” the Headmaster said, amused.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Albus.”

“Of course, you don’t. But don’t look to strip Miss Granger of her title again. I find that she and Mr. Malfoy provide me with endless entertainment.”

“I have to question your wisdom on that pairing as Head Students, Albus. They set a bad example to the school. Poor Draco, I don’t blame him for his frustration. She is a remarkably infuriating girl.”

That irritatingly knowing smile played around Albus’ lips, and he twinkled across the desk at Severus. “I find I disagree with you. Their shenanigans are all the more interesting for the obvious chemistry that exists between the pair.”

“Chemistry?” he snorted.

“Yes, it’s very clear to see for those who look beyond the obvious.”

Severus bristled at the implication that he was blind to undercurrents. “I think you are reading far too much into their hostility. Besides, she’s _Muggle-born_ and Draco is a Malfoy.”

“I find it’s always the most unsuitable people that inspire the strongest love. I thought you of all people knew that, Severus.”

He reddened. Lily had been completely different to Granger. She had been special and unique. She had not been a bossy, irritating know-it-all. Okay, so maybe she had been some of those things, but they had been endearing in Lily in a way that they weren’t in Granger. “I think you’ll find this situation is rather different.”

Albus nodded knowingly. “Of course. All attractions are different because all people are different.”

“I contest the idea that there is any attraction between those two.”

The Headmaster chuckled. “I’m surprised at you, Severus. You are usually so discerning in your observations. Are you telling me that you’ve failed to notice the frequent, secretive glances they shoot at each other?”

“The only glances I see are hate-filled ones just before they start screaming at each other.”

“Want to make it a little more interesting?” Albus asked.

He assessed the Headmaster closely. He had that twinkle in his eyes that proclaimed to the world ‘I know things that you don’t’. It was unsettling. “Interesting how?”

“How about we have a little bet about the Head Students?”

Severus pursed his lips. He didn’t trust Albus Dumbledore when he was in a mischievous mood. “What kind of bet?”

“A bet that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger will be dating by the end of the year.”

_What?!_ He thought. _Albus has finally lost it!_ “What would this bet entail?”

“If I lose, have read the situation entirely wrong, and they still hate each other by the end of the year, I’ll make both Head Students next year Slytherin.”

He liked the sound of that. His dream of lauding it over Minerva once more resurfaced. She would hate it. Both Head Students Slytherins! That hadn’t happened in over five hundred years. “And if I lose, Draco completely loses his mind, and declares his love for Granger?”

“You have to wear Gryffindor colours for a day.”

Severus shuddered. Red and Gold? Could you get any tawdrier? The idea of having to deck himself out like a child’s portrait of Fawkes was off-putting, but the lure of having Slytherin dominance was strong. Besides, there was zero chance that the Headmaster was right. It was preposterous to even imagine. “I think it highly unlikely that you’re right but I’m more than happy to see two Slytherin Head Students next year.”

“Excellent,” Albus responded. He held his hand out for Severus to shake. They both uttered an incantation at the same time, as was needed to make the bet binding. It was similar to the Unbreakable Vow, but gave you a rather nasty case of boils if you reneged on your half of the bargain instead of death.

\-----------

Albus chuckled to himself as Severus disappeared through his door. “I’m not sure I approve of you making scandalous bets regarding my descendants,” sneered Phineas Nigellus Black.

“Oh hush, Phineas!” scolded Dilys Derwent. “It’s a perfectly harmless bet and that silly boy, Severus, deserved it after he tried to get the lovely Granger girl demoted.”

“It’s hardly harmless when she’s a Mud-,” he stopped at the fierce glare directed at him by Albus and half the other former Head-professors. “ _Muggle-born_ ,” he hastily corrected.

“It’s about time these ridiculous ideas on blood were laid to rest,” intoned Dexter Fortescue. “They have no place in our society.”

“You’re only saying that because you were Muggle-born.” Phineas sniped.

Vindictus Veridian snorted. “You wouldn’t call Granger sweet if you’d seen some of the things she got up to, Dilys. She’s got a vindictive side that I fully approve of.”

“Now, Vindictus, I’m sure you are mistaken. She’s always such a delight,” Dilys objected.

“Maybe because you weren’t trying to stop her from breaking any school rules. She has a single-minded determination that is impressive for one so morally upright. She and the Malfoy boy would make an interesting combination,” Vindictus replied.

“As if a descendant from the noble House of Black would lower themselves,” Phineas sneered.

“Andromeda Tonks,” coughed Heliotrope Wilkins.

Phineas spluttered.

Albus, paying no attention to the bickering portraits of former Heads, settled back into his chair and thought through his next moves. If he knew Severus as well as he thought he did then there was no way the Potions Professor would be able to stop himself from interfering. He really did have a love of getting himself involved in situations that didn’t need his input. Just look at his interactions with the Marauders. Granted, they’d bullied him mercilessly, which Albus probably should have realised, but he didn’t need to go sneaking around after them they way that he had. It had only resulted in his near death.

Then again, if this plan of his was to work, then he needed Severus to start meddling. Sadly, his idea of making both Hermione and Draco Head Students, so they would use the extra time they had to spend together to fall in love, had failed miserably. All it had led to were more heated arguments and many more accidents that ended with one of them in the Infirmary. Usually Draco. Hermione really did have a way with hexes, and the Head Boy had always been more talk than action.

But this latest incident, in front of an exasperated Severus, opened up the possibilities hugely. No doubt Severus would start playing them off against each other more ruthlessly than he normally did. Albus would need to choose his allies carefully. He mentally went through the list of students currently enrolled. He stopped at two sixth-year names and grinned in a fashion unbecoming to a man of his years. _They were perfect_ , he thought.

\---------

Meanwhile, Severus was marching back down to his dungeon office. Fortunately, it was lunchtime, so he would have a chance to start planning his next move. He was not stupid enough to imagine that Albus wouldn’t look to nudge his two Head Students together if he could. For someone so busy, the meddlesome old fool did love to involve himself in the day-to-day life of his students.

In the case of Draco and Granger, Severus could imagine the Headmaster thinking he could make two young people happy and change the world. If a Malfoy were to date a Muggle-born it would be a slap in the face to those who clung to old ideas of blood supremacy. Albus would love delivering that blow.

It had been a massive surprise when Draco was made Head Boy. Most students had expected it to be Harry Potter. Severus had fully expected it to be a member of Dumbledore’s Army. Draco had received the badge to the consternation of three of the Hogwarts’ houses and the majority of the professors, but Severus had been thrilled. Not many regarded the qualities Draco possessed as admirable, but he appreciated the rather underhanded way the boy had looked to make Potter’s life a misery at school. Sadly, Draco lacked the ruthlessly nasty streak his father possessed, and so had only really excelled at childish bullying. Severus sighed; how Potter could have been humiliated – and potentially seriously injured – if Draco had more Lucius and less Narcissa in his personality.

Oh well, there was no point in focusing on the past. He now needed to concentrate on thwarting Albus. A battle of wits was something Severus enjoyed and - despite his eccentricities - there was no one more cunning and clever than Albus Dumbledore.


	2. Gifts and Conundrums

Hermione stood uncertainly at the entrance to the Infirmary. She wasn’t sure why she was here and had debated whether to come or not all evening.

She’d held off, going to bed and attempting to sleep, but had finally caved at one o’clock in the morning. Lavender and Parvati had been snoring away, but she had still been lying in bed awake reliving the incident in Potions. She’d flung back the covers and snuck up the stairs to the Boys’ Dorms, slipped silently into Harry and Ron’s room, and rifled through Harry’s trunk until she’d found the Invisibility Cloak. There was no point in taking any further risks today. If Snape caught her out of bed, he’d definitely try to get her stripped of her position once more.

Now, she was looking at the still figure huddled under covers. Earlier in Potions, she’d panicked when she’d seen that chunk of wall whack him in the head. For a scary moment, she’d thought it’d killed him. Thankfully, it hadn’t. He might be a colossal pain in the arse, but he didn’t deserve to die.

She stepped into the room and padded across to his stand at his side. His bedside table was covered with sweets. The blond Slytherin’s sweet tooth was legendary in Hogwarts, and the packages he received from his mother caused many to envy him. Hermione, the daughter of dentists, wasn’t one of those people. She couldn’t help the small sound of disapproval that left her mouth as she saw how many there were piled up on the table. She stilled as he stirred under the covers, only breathing easily once he settled down. He faced away from her, and she sat quietly in the seat beside his bed.

Hermione couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was this year that had her so angry with Malfoy. Last year things had been a lot calmer between them. Indeed, their sixth year had been a truce year all round. The war had finished just before the start of that year with the battle being a welcome anti-climax. The Order of the Phoenix had already been hot on the case of the Horcruxes before the confrontation at the Department of Ministries. Afterwards, they had destroyed Hufflepuff’s Cup with the help of Bill Weasley’s contacts amongst the Goblins. That only left Nagini and Harry himself. Dumbledore had taken Harry aside to explain the situation to him, before the Order planned a showdown at Malfoy Manor, and, despite the best efforts of Molly Weasley, Ron and Hermione had joined Harry at the ensuing fight.

With the Death Eaters taken by surprise and weak, with a good few still locked away in Azkaban, the battle went better than expected, although not without casualties. The Order had lost Ted Tonks, Hestia Jones and Moody along with four other Aurors. But the turning point had been Harry deliberately taking an _Avada Kedavra_ from Voldemort. Stunned by his death, the battle had paused giving him enough time to recover from the death of the Horcrux inside him to take Voldemort completely by surprise. Once the Dark Lord had been vanquished, the Death Eaters lost their nerve and were easily routed.

Life had recovered surprisingly quickly. Returning to Hogwarts, it appeared as if nothing had happened. The only difference had been a lessening in the tension between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. No more blood purity jibes were made, and, whilst not precisely friends, the two houses managed to co-exist peacefully. It had been a welcome relief for Hermione, Harry and Ron. It was the first time they weren’t undertaking their exams whilst trying to foil Voldemort at the same time.

But this year - well, this year had proved tempestuous. Hermione had been thrilled to receive the Head Girl badge, but that excitement had lessened when she boarded the Hogwarts Express and seen Malfoy parading the counterpart. She had stopped in stunned silence and stared at him and the smug smile he flung her way had started the first in a long line of arguments between the pair. They were hardly setting a good example to the rest of the school, but she couldn’t help it. There was something about him that just got to her. The swaggering arrogance coupled with the sarcastic wit drove her potty. Harry and Ron viewed it all with amusement, whilst the rest of Hogwarts thought the constant sniping between the Head Students was tremendous entertainment. The only person who seemed as infuriated by the whole situation as she and Malfoy was Snape.

Hermione was also uncomfortably aware that her hormones held a difference of opinion to her brain. Her heart would pound uncomfortably in Malfoy’s presence and she would get butterflies in her stomach. This didn’t improve her temperament whilst she was around him.

Which brought her back to today: the whole incident really had been Malfoy’s fault. His demand to be given the last vial of Snake Venom was ridiculous, and he had deliberately sabotaged her potion by throwing that Porcupine Quill in. But the fear she felt as he lay unmoving at her feet was something she would never forget. She had truly believed that he was dead.

She sighed as she took in his sleeping form. Her hand moved to her pocket and she pulled out the small Quidditch figure she had created earlier out of guilt for her part in his near-death. Inspired by the figurines sold at the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione had transfigured a little figure of Malfoy complete with his Firebolt and Slytherin Quidditch robes. Using a series of charms, she had brought him to life.

Now, as she watched him strut across her palm, smoothing his hair back, she was proud of the outcome and a little reluctant to let him go. She couldn’t help but be amused as he looked up at her, winked and blew a kiss. The real Malfoy would blow a fuse if he saw that. Quietly giggling at little Malfoy’s antics, she placed him on the bedside table and watched as he climbed onto his broomstick and swooped in and out of the sweet boxes. She knew the Head Boy would like it, as he was too vain not to.

She took one last look at the sleeping blond before silently leaving once more.

\-------

There was nothing Ginny loved more at Hogwarts than the arrival of the post in the morning. It was a daily spectacle that she enjoyed immensely. It was one also fraught with danger for her clothes if she received a letter from home. Much-loved family owl, Errol, wasn’t too smooth with his landings and he had sprayed pretty much everyone on the Gryffindor table with some form of breakfast food or drink over the years. However, she wasn’t expecting anything today, having just sent off a letter last night, so she was surprised as a school owl landed in front of her and held out its leg for her to remove the parchment tied on.

She unrolled the letter curiously and was surprised to see a missive from Professor Dumbledore, requesting her presence for a meeting after lessons finished that day. She looked towards Hermione.

“Hey, Hermione, have you got a note from Professor Dumbledore?”

Hermione looked up from the omelette she was consuming. “No, why?”

“Oh! It’s just he wants to see me this afternoon.”

The Head Girl looked intrigued. “I hope everything is okay.”

Ginny shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.”

She couldn’t help the glance that strayed the way of the professor’s table, though. And there sat Professor Dumbledore, twinkling down at her. Her natural radar for mischief, honed from growing up with the twins, blinked into life. Something was up!

\-------

She was sure of it later that day as she made her way up to the Headmaster’s Office. She met Luna Lovegood on the main staircase.

“Hello!” Ginny said. “Have you been called in to see Professor Dumbledore as well?”

“Yes,” the dreamy blonde replied.

“Do you have any idea what it’s all about?”

“I thought it might be the presence of Wrackspurts around Professor Snape this morning. Professor Dumbledore might need my advice on getting rid of them, but I’m unsure as to why you’re here.”

Ginny just shook her head in amusement and the two girls made their way up one more flight of stairs to Professor Dumbledore’s Office. Ginny said the password given in her letter and they both sped up the moving spiral staircase. Luna knocked on the door and they heard Professor Dumbledore invite them in.

“Thanks for coming Luna, Ginevra,” he greeted.

The Headmaster was the only person, other than her mother when she was angry, who called Ginny by her full name. She wished he wouldn’t. She hated it.

“Professor Dumbledore,” both girls murmured together.

“Please take a seat,” he said, before flourishing a bowl of Fizzing Whizzbees. “Would you like a sweet?”

Ginny declined but Luna gleefully accepted one. “Ooh, Fizzing Whizzbees, my favourite.” She then proceeded to happily hover a few inches off her seat.

“Well, I’m sure you’re both curious as to why I’ve called you here,” Professor Dumbledore started. Ginny looked at Luna, who didn’t look in the least curious. “I have a proposition to put to the pair of you.”

The Headmaster certainly had Ginny’s attention. She found herself leaning slightly forward on her seat. He had something up his sleeve she could practically feel it.

“Now, I’m sure you are both aware of a certain incident recently during the seventh-year Advanced Potions class. Professor Snape was understandably angry about the whole thing.”

“Yes, he tried to get Hermione sacked!” Ginny said bitterly.

Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, well, as I said, he was very angry. Anyway, Professor Snape and I discussed my choice of Head Students and came to a slight disagreement on their compatibility. As such, Professor Snape and I now have a challenge of sorts regarding the Head Students, and I’ve set up this meeting to ask you for your help.”

Ginny was intrigued as to where this was going. Professor Dumbledore had hardly brought them here to listen to his mild rebuke of Snape. “What kind of challenge?”

The twinkle was definitely back. “A match-making challenge. I have bet Professor Snape that our Head Students will be a couple before the end of the year.”

She looked slightly taken aback. “What? You want to match-make Hermione with Malfoy?” She didn’t think it could be the other way round. Snape didn’t appear as the cuddly cupid type. Besides, he despised Hermione and was never afraid to show it.

“I knew this would be about the Wrackspurts that were hovering around Professor Snape today,” Luna said, as if that explained everything.

Ginny shot the Ravenclaw an irritated look, but Professor Dumbledore took it in his stride. “The Wrackspurts are rarely wrong,” he agreed with an amused smile. “As for your question, Ginevra, I’ve always found that the tension between our estimable Heads to be very entertaining, even through their lower years at Hogwarts.”

“I suppose you could call it tension but I prefer to call it hate.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to respond with a rather trite saying: there’s a thin line between love and hate. I find that rather apt for our Head Students.”

“They would have kissed this Christmas, but the Nargles kept getting in the way and moving the Mistletoe,” Luna stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Ginny loved Luna but sometimes her belief in made-up creatures was a little wearisome. This was one of those times.

“If only I had some enchanted Mistletoe,” Professor Dumbledore said wistfully, humouring Luna.

Luna nodded enthusiastically. “That would be a great idea, Professor. You could trap students underneath it until they kiss.”

“I’ll look into the idea, Luna. That would certainly enliven next Christmas.”

Ginny, ignoring the current Luna induced tangent, continued with the previous conversation. “I’m not sure you’ve read this situation correctly, sir, with all due respect.”

He smiled at Ginny. “Why don’t you help me out and then we’ll see if I have or not.”

Ginny pursed her lips. The thought of Hermione’s reaction if she knew that Ginny had actively tried to match-make her with Malfoy was worrying. She wasn’t exactly calm and composed when it came to the snarky blond Slytherin.

“Don’t worry, Hermione won’t find out,” the Headmaster said encouragingly.

Ginny couldn’t help but smile at the knowing look on Professor Dumbledore’s face. He really did appear omnipresent. But did she really want to get involved in this pretty crazy scheme of the Headmaster?

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, but why would you want to match-make?”

“Call it the folly of an old man. Besides, I find that despite the war being over, there are those who see blood as a determining factor to worth. Such attitudes will only be broken down if pure-blood families like the Malfoys marry Muggle-borns.”

“But - and excuse my questioning your motives, Professor - but isn’t that a bit of a cold reason for wanting to match make two students?”

“Of course, if that was the only reason. But Hermione and Draco’s feelings aren’t unengaged and I feel inclined to give them a little push.”

Ginny still wasn’t too sure. She understood the Headmaster’s motives a little more now, but she wasn’t sure it was something she wanted to involve herself in.”

“If Professor Snape loses the bet, he has to wear Gryffindor-coloured robes for a day,” Professor Dumbledore said, knowing that would help clinch the matter for Ginny.

Now that really was something she didn’t want to miss. “Okay,” she said. “What do you want us to do?”

“I need a spy in the ranks.”

Ginny looked intrigued. “To do what?”

“To find out what Hermione is thinking. It might just be me, but I really do think the arguments caused between the pair are a result of suppressed emotions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they managed to get on perfectly fine last year – as fine as two students with their history could – and I noticed that there were one or two curious looks exchanged between them. So, I decided to make them Head Students this year. Hermione was always a shoo-in, but I don’t need to tell you that Draco was an outside choice.”

Ginny nodded furiously. It had come as a huge shock to the whole school when Malfoy had turned up on the Hogwarts Express sporting the Head Boy badge.

“But whilst they have proved to be very entertaining, I’m still waiting for my suspicions to be proved correct. Call it the vanity of an old man, but I do like to be right.”

“And the bet with Snape?”

“ _Professor_ Snape,” the Headmaster rebuked gently.

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

“Well, let’s just say, your Potions Master handed me a situation that I could not pass up, and it would be nice to see him out of those dreary black robes and dressed in something altogether more festive.”

“What’s Luna got to do with this?” Ginny asked, genuinely curious. If Hermione was going to confide any girly gossip to anyone then it would be her, not Luna.

Professor Dumbledore smiled in the direction of the distracted blonde, who was sitting there quietly, humming to herself. “I find Luna’s observations most interesting. She often sees things that others miss.”

Ginny couldn’t argue with that. Luna, for all her ditzy persona, could often get to the crux of the matter better than anyone else.

“Besides, Luna was a deciding factor in my decision to try and push our erstwhile Head Students together.”

“Was I?” the Ravenclaw asked, surprised.

“Very much so. Towards the end of last year, as we made our way down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, you made a remark that it was a shame that Hermione was revising rather than attending, as her presence always made Draco play worse.”

“Oh, yes! He spent every game she attended last year trying to impress her rather than concentrating on the game. It’s continued into this year, as well.”

“He does?” Ginny asked, confused.

“Have you never noticed?” Luna countered.

“I can’t say I have.”

“Well, he does, and it makes him a horrendous Seeker. I really wish we could make Hermione attend all Slytherin matches, rather than ones you nag her to attend.”

Ginny blinked in amazement.

“Now you can see why I would want Luna on board,” the Headmaster remarked.

\--------

Severus sat in his office, pleased that lessons for the day were finished. He really despaired for the future of Potions with the calibre of students he had to teach in this place but at least he appreciated his subject now. He’d had one year of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts last year as Albus had struggled to find someone who wanted to take the position. So the Headmaster had caved and given Severus his chance to make the position his own.

As was often the way with things so desired, the job didn’t live up to his expectations. He found he’d come to love the more subtle art of Potions and missed teaching it. Albus had been surprised when he handed in his notice as soon as the academic year was over and requested a return to his previous job. However, it had been handy for the Headmaster, though, as Professor Slughorn hadn’t enjoyed his year out of retirement and had expressed a wish to retire once more.

According to Horace, the new batch of students weren’t a patch on previous years. Severus thought it was more sour grapes because they weren’t in awe of him. In fact, after Severus’ strict regime, and in the giddy atmosphere left by the demise of Voldemort, the students had been rather boisterous and rowdy in Horace’s classes. Severus hadn’t hidden his amusement at this. There had been none of that in his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

Albus had reinstated Severus to the post of Potions Master and had cajoled Remus Lupin to teach once more. With the amount of good will towards the Headmaster, there had been very few protests at the Lycanthrope’s return; also the fact that Remus was happily married and had sired a son meant that many parents trusted Professor Dumbledore’s decision. Severus hadn’t been so pleased to be on Wolfsbane duty once more, especially as this meant the return of one of his school nemeses.

Now, he sat in his office, configuring plans to drive a deeper wedge between the Head Boy and Girl. He was going to enjoy this immensely because as well as the victory over Albus, there was the glorious prospect of Slytherin House dominating Hogwarts next year awaiting him. He cracked a very rare smile.

\--------

Draco had spent a frustrating day in the Infirmary. Despite his pleas, Madam Pomfrey had refused to discharge him, which had left him stuck lying in bed, something he hated to do on any normal day. At least he had a large pile of sweets to make his way through, although they had begun to pall after a while.

He was confused as to who had left him the little figurine of himself, though. He was touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift. It couldn’t have been any of his friends, as they would have wanted to take credit for it. Besides, the only people he knew intelligent enough to undertake all the magic required were Theo or Blaise, and he couldn’t see either one thinking of it, as it wasn’t exactly the manliest thing to give another guy. If Pansy had the time to order one, then she would have done so, but he’d only been in the Infirmary since yesterday and that certainly wasn’t enough time to place such an order.

He puzzled over who could have spent so much time making it for him as he watched his mini-self pace over the bedclothes.

“Well, that _is_ a thoughtful gift,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Draco jumped and looked towards the end of the bed, where the Headmaster was standing, his two hands resting on the bottom end of the bed frame. He made a non-committal response in reply.

“Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

He shook his head, picked his mini-me up and passed it over to Professor Dumbledore. The old wizard hummed and ahh-ed over the gift, looking at it from all angles, and even hanging it upset down much to the little Draco’s disgust.

“That’s very clever magic. Someone extremely intelligent must have made that for you. Someone who knows you well, too.”

He found he didn’t like the amused tone the Headmaster had adopted. He was not vain he just appreciated his worth. “I found it this morning. I doubt it was either Blaise or Theo.”

“Yes, not the kind of thing most wizards would give to another. It’s a work of love, though,” Professor Dumbledore said, giving him that infuriatingly knowing look. It was as if he knew whom it must have come from but wasn’t sharing. This was an irritating habit with the Headmaster, who only liked to divulge things when he deemed the time was right.

“I’m sure whoever made it will come forward,” Draco said in an offhand manner.

“Maybe,” the Headmaster said. “Anyway, how are you feeling?”

“Perfectly fine, but Madame Pomfrey won’t release me.”

“Apologies, that’s my fault as I wanted to see and make sure that my Head Boy was fine before she discharged you.”

Draco mentally rolled his eyes. He may have been a damn sight more polite to the Headmaster these days, but he did not require any of the mollycoddling that Potter went in for. “I’m bored but otherwise in tip-top shape.”

“Good, good. No long-lasting injury then?”

He suppressed an impatient sigh. The old coot could really ramble when he wanted to. “No, Madame Pomfrey said that I show no signs of concussion and I’m as good as new.”

“I just wanted to go over the incident with you. I’ve spoken to Miss Granger, who assures me it was an accident.”

Draco scowled at the mention of the bossy Head Girl, the perennial pain in his backside. “She refused to hand over the last vial of Snake Venom, but yes, the explosion was an accident.”

If you could count him deliberately sabotaging her potion as an accident. It served her right for refusing to give him the ingredient when he demanded it. Malfoys always got what they wanted.

Professor Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly at Draco, almost as if he was assessing his ability to tell the truth. The Slytherin kept his face straight and guarded his mind against the Headmaster, in case he tried to infiltrate it. Professor Snape had personally overseen his Occlumency training in his fifth year, as if expecting that he would need to use it one day against the Dark Lord. He had never been as grateful to his Head of House as he had been when Voldemort decided to make Malfoy Manor his Headquarters in punishment for Father botching the job at the Department of Mysteries. He refused to think about the impossible task he had been set, especially with the Headmaster there staring at him from the end of the bed. There was no way he would have been able to kill the old man.

“Well, Miss Granger apologised to Professor Snape, it would probably be a good thing if you did too.”

He smirked. That would be easy; Professor Snape never held his Slytherins accountable for their behaviour. “Of course, Professor.”

“As you seem fine, I see no reason why you cannot get up and return to your dormitory. And your classes.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Professor Dumbledore turned to leave, remembered he still had the little Quidditch figure of Draco in his hands, and handed it back. “It really is remarkable magic. A very exceptional witch must have made you that.”

“Why do you say witch? It still could be a wizard, even if it wasn’t Theo or Blaise.”

“Come now, Draco, I think we both know it was a female who went to such great lengths to create that wonderful piece of magic.”

Draco mentally agreed, but he could only think of one witch with the skill and ability to pull it off, and his mind rebelled at going down that route. It had been straying down there far too often lately and he was determined to squish all the inconvenient feelings out of him. He refused to allow himself to acknowledge what his heart kept trying to tell him. She was annoying and irritated him beyond all reasonable bounds and that was all there was to it!


	3. Duels

Severus knocked briefly on the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts office before swinging the door open and marching in. He sneered a little as he took in the changes that had been made since he’d vacated it at the end of last year. Once more, it was cheery and bright with fascinating creatures littering the surfaces here and there. How depressing! There was nothing cheerful about the Dark Arts but - sadly - he was one of the few who realised and appreciated that.

“Severus, how can I help you?” Remus Lupin asked, looking up from the essays he was currently marking.

“I’ve come with a proposition for you.”

The werewolf looked intrigued, which was precisely what Severus was aiming for. He wouldn’t normally want to interact with Lupin, but in order to win the bet with the Headmaster, he needed the competitive qualities of the Head Students to be released with, hopefully, dire consequences.

“I want to bring back the duelling club and need another professor to help me run it. I thought you’d be the perfect person.”

“Really? Wasn’t it a bit of a disaster last time?”

“The fault of that fool, Gilderoy Lockhart, and unforeseen circumstances with the Chamber of Secrets being reopened. With two competent wizards in charge, I rather think the students will benefit,” he said, the compliment towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor sticking a little in his throat.

“Hmm … you have a point and it would be rather fun, as well as excellent preparation for my class. The upper years are so excellent in duelling and repelling dark curses thanks in part to Dumbledore’s Army. It was a little like a duelling club,” Lupin mused.

Severus mentally rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “I take it I can count on your support when I take this to Albus?”

“Of course.”

“With the Headmaster’s permission, I thought we could start the club up by the end of the week. We’re already in February and it would be a shame to waste any more of this term.”

“I agree and suggest Friday evenings as the perfect time.”

Severus nodded curtly before leaving. The first part of his plan was in motion. He knew that Albus would agree to the club. He would see it as vindication for bringing Lupin back to teach at Hogwarts and would be keen for students to benefit from a well-run duelling club. Severus was also aware that the Headmaster would also see through his machinations and know it was an attempt to further the rivalry between the Head Students, but that couldn’t be helped.

\--------

Hermione looked across the Great Hall at dinner that night and smiled a little at the sight of Malfoy showing off the little Quidditch figurine to his friends. It really was a brilliant bit of magic, even if she did say so herself. He looked as pleased with it as she imagined he would be, too. She wasn’t sure why, but the accident in the Potions class had calmed her anger towards the Head Boy. Maybe it had been the real prospect of him dying that had done it. It was a little scary that an argument could get so out of control that he ended up lifeless on the floor at her feet. His still, unmoving body had sent an icy shiver down her spine and, now, when looking at him, she couldn’t help but see that image, which made her realise that he was as vulnerable as anyone else behind that snarky demeanour. As she watched his glee at a gift she’d given him, it was more rewarding than it should have been – even if he wasn’t aware that the gift came from her.

She turned her attention away from Malfoy and towards the podium, where Professor Dumbledore had called for their attention.

“I have some exciting news for you all. Professor Snape and Professor Lupin have decided to collaborate together to reinstate the duelling club. It will be recommencing from this Friday in the Great Hall, and all students are welcome.”

Excited whispers tore around the Hall as students looked at each other. The Lockhart attempt at putting a Duelling Club together had become legendary amongst the Hogwarts students. How disastrous it had turned out to be was a never-ending source of amusement for the school. And now there was a chance for the younger years to see what it was all about – although Hermione highly doubted that it would descend into the farce that the previous club had. For a start, Lupin was a highly proficient duellist and secondly, everyone knew that Harry had been a Parselmouth and how he’d come by that ability.

“So, are we going to check it out?” Ron asked.

Hermione sighed. “I guess. I don’t really have a choice. As Head Girl, I’m expected to turn up to events like this.”

Ron frowned. “But you don’t go to the Gobstones Club meetings or anything?”

“No, but they’ve been an established club since the Founders were in charge. This is something new and I should really show my face.”

“I bet Malfoy will be there, anyway. Hey, Harry! Do you reckon you’ll get a chance to duel him again?”

The black-haired boy shrugged. “Who knows? Snape will probably try and make it happen, but I have plenty of spells up my sleeve this time.”

Ron chuckled. “After taking on _and_ defeating Voldemort, Malfoy will be a doddle!”

“I reckon Hermione’s got a better chance of duelling Malfoy – it’s pretty much what they’ve been doing all year, anyway,” Ginny cut in slyly.

She flushed in embarrassment at the remark. “I doubt it. I’m sure both Professor Snape and Professor Lupin will prefer to use younger students.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah, right! Everyone is going to want to see Harry duel.”

Harry groaned. He hated being touted as the Saviour of the Wizarding World with all the attention that came with it. He wanted to sit in the background and get on with his Voldemort-free life.

He also got irritated at those who tried to whip up hostility between him and Malfoy. After Narcissa Malfoy had become an Order of the Phoenix informer to stop her son from having to take the Dark Mark, the rivalry between the two boys had dissipated. Malfoy no longer felt a burning need to best him at everything and they enjoyed a civil – if not friendly – relationship. They would nod in the corridor and whilst they would still fiercely compete on the Quidditch pitch (where Malfoy still hadn’t managed to defeat him, much to his pleasure), it was a lot healthier.

Ron would still make little comments at Malfoy’s expense but, crucially, this was never in front of the sensitive Slytherin. Ironically, it was Hermione who couldn’t stand Malfoy. When they’d been younger, she’d always been the one who would take the higher ground and, more likely than not, ignore Malfoy’s jabs. Or, if she did retaliate, then it would be verbally rather than with hexes, barring the Slapping Incident, as they’d come to call it. But since they’d returned as the Head Students this final year, they’d fought like cat and dog, resulting in that disastrous Potions lesson where Malfoy had nearly died.

At least this had the effect of calming their rivalry down. They had both stayed far away from each other in the past few days.

\--------

The excitement regarding the duelling club didn’t abate in the few days until Friday came around. It was all the students talked about in between classes and after homework. Well, the younger students anyway. Draco had become so fed up over the incessant wondering about what the club would be like that he’d banned any talk of it in the Slytherin common room. The younger years had glared at him resentfully, but he didn’t care.

“So, do you reckon Professor Snape will call on you to duel?” Blaise asked.

“Possibly.”

“You are his favourite and you are the best duellist in Slytherin.”

“That’s not saying much considering how much Professor Snape hates all students and how little duelling any Slytherin has done.”

It was a source of annoyance to Draco that the other three houses were so much better when it came to duelling – well, the older years anyway, thanks to their participation in Dumbledore’s Army and the role that some of them were allowed to play in the final battle. The Slytherins in contrast had nothing to compare, as throwing a few hexes in the corridor really didn’t match up.

Draco had considered fighting to free his home from Voldemort but, when he’d casually suggested this, it had been very unpopular with the Order. They had questioned his loyalty, worried that if they allowed him to take part then he would somehow switch sides and destroy all their plans. Draco had been hugely unimpressed with this reasoning, as, if he were so stupid to do such a thing, he’d be signing his mother’s death warrant.

But the real stopper to his plans had been his mother, who had a backbone of steel. She’d gone against her upbringing to keep her son safe, gone to the man the Dark Lord had ordered Draco to kill and ruthlessly betrayed all and any secrets the Death Eaters had confided in her. It was thanks to her information that the Order was able to kill Voldemort off so quickly and easily. And there had been no way that she was endangering her son by letting him fight. When he’d tried arguing with her she’d refused to relent, so he’d had to watch the Order leave Grimmauld Place and return his own home to him. It had hurt his pride.

But he’d stood by his mother’s side when his father, released from Azkaban after the war in accordance with the deal his mother had struck with Professor Dumbledore, had railed at her for running to a bunch of ‘Mudbloods and Blood Traitors’ instead of remaining true to the Dark Lord’s vision and ambitions. She’d weathered his father’s storm calmly before mercilessly ripping Lucius’ character and actions to shreds. Draco had been worried that his father would lash out at his mother, and had his wand ready, but once more he’d underestimated his mother’s character. Narcissa had thrown a powerful _Petrificus Totalus_ at his father when he’d attempted to hit her, which had knocked Lucius out cold for twelve hours. She’d then shut herself and her husband away for a day, silencing their room and when Draco had next seen them, his father was a changed – albeit subdued – man. No more words were spoken about pure-blood superiority. More surprisingly, when they’d gone to Diagon Alley to replenish Draco’s school supplies and bumped into the Weasleys, his father had said nothing as his mother and Molly Weasley exchanged polite pleasantries.

Draco had confronted his mother after that, asking if she’d used the Imperius Curse on his father. His mother had laughed long and hard at that, patted him on the cheek and reassured him that she’d used the rather more effective method of some much needed home truths. Needless to say, it was now his mother who ruled the roost and he had to admit that things were a lot better. Draco was still just as spoiled, but he was no longer encouraged to best Harry Potter and his friends. In fact, his mother had made him promise to be a lot more civil to the Boy-Who-Lived, which he had - partly due to the fact that he’d seen the reality of Voldemort and hadn’t liked it, but mainly because he was scared of what his mother would do to him if he didn’t.

Draco strolled into the Great Hall with Blaise and raised his eyebrows as he saw that the whole school was in attendance.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I didn’t imagine everyone would be here,” Blaise remarked.

“It’s something new and exciting.”

Silence descended on the gathering as Professors Snape and Lupin strode onto the raised podium, especially erected to give everyone a view of what was happening.

“Good evening,” Professor Lupin said pleasantly. “I’m glad you’re all so eager and excited at the prospect of the duelling club.”

Draco smirked as he glanced over to Professor Snape, who looked anything but happy. In fact, he looked surly and disdainful. Draco couldn’t work out why his Head of House had wanted to be involved in the club. He’d understood the Potions Master’s motivations during their second year: he’d wanted to humiliate Lockhart. But this time Draco was confused as to why he was setting the club up.

The two professors then gave a short display of proper duelling etiquette and conduct, which Draco zoned out of. It was the maniacal laughter and the thump on the floor that regained his attention along with the titters from the crowd. It appeared that Professor Lupin had hit the Slytherin Head of House with Rictusempra and the sight of the usually sullen Potions Master laughing hysterically was very amusing. The werewolf lifted the spell and Professor Snape struggled to stand, his feet trapped in his cloak and his hair mussed and in his face. The murderous glare the Potions Professor gave to Professor Lupin, and then the laughing students, promised retribution.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, impervious to the death stares, turned once more to the mass of excited students. “A simple, seemingly harmless spell is often the most effective. Now, how about we get some students up here to have a go?”

The chattering broke out anew and Professor Lupin was about to choose two students when Professor Snape interrupted.

“I think it might be a good idea if our Head Students gave a demonstration. After all, we all know they are proficient at duelling each other,” he said silkily.

Draco groaned as Blaise poked him in the ribs, sniggering. “Told you so.”

“That doesn’t endear you to me.”

“What? You’ve entertained us enough this year with Granger, what’s one more duelling exhibition in controlled circumstances?”

He shot his amused friend a dirty look before dragging his unwilling body over and onto the podium. Professor Snape beckoned him over.

“Right, there’s no need to play fair, Draco. She won’t.”

He looked up and over at Granger who was confidently standing next to Professor Lupin, who wasn’t even bothering to give her instructions.

“Go on, Hermione! Hex him back to the dungeons!” someone called out from the crowd.

_Great!_ he thought, _I’m going to end up with another trip to the Infirmary_. The Head Girl’s hexes were vicious – he should know, he’d been on the receiving end of them far too many times this year.

“See! Hit her with all you have,” his Head of House encouraged.

Draco would probably feel a lot better about this if he wasn’t facing one of the most talented witches alive. The way she’d taken down several Death Eaters during the Battle at Malfoy Manor was legendary.

They moved towards each other, bowed and then paced the requisite steps back, their wands raised in a combative stance. Professor Lupin started to count to three but as he reached two, Draco found himself flying backwards, somersaulting through the air. He landed with a sickening crunch back on the podium. He stayed down for a brief moment, catching his breath before righting himself, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

“Oh sorry!” Granger gushed at the other end of the podium, as if she hadn’t just cheated and hit him with Flipendo Tria before he was even ready.

“I thought I was meant to be the Slytherin, Granger!” Draco snapped at her.

“Hermione, the count is to three,” Professor Lupin scolded.

“I know, but I thought Malfoy would jump in early, as he did with Harry back in our second year.”

Draco glared but turned once more to Professor Snape, whose eyes were glittering with excitement. At least someone was enjoying this.

“Try _Levicorpus_ ,” Professor Snape told him, showing him the wand movement covertly.

“What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“A spell of my own making, but it’ll teach her a lesson.”

Draco was a little wary. He didn’t want to hurt Granger and Professor Snape could be more than a little vindictive. He then caught sight of her smug smile in the direction of her friends and narrowed his eyes. So, she was deliberately playing dirty. Well, he’d show her.

Once they were positioned again, Draco didn’t give the Head Girl an opportunity to get in first, shouting “ _Levicorpus_!”

Granger swung upwards into the air and was suspended upside down, her robes and skirt rushing around her head. Gasps, jeers and catcalls ran around the crowd as she dangled in the air, her knickers on show.

Draco stood there in shock for a few seconds. He’d thought the spell would fling her backwards into a wall or something – not hang her upside down, which would be harmless if she wasn’t wearing a skirt, with her bare legs on display. Nice, long legs, he thought.

The noise of the Great Hall pierced through his shock. He stripped his robes off, rushing to cover her and turned to Professor Snape. “What’s the counter-curse? Quickly!”

The Potions Master seemed to be enjoying the spectacle of the Head Girl being humiliated but at Draco’s words, he languidly swished his wand, muttering “ _Liberacorpus_.”

Once Granger had landed in an untidy heap of twisted limbs and cloth, he rushed over, offering her his hand and heaved her upwards. He then straightened her robes as she smoothed her skirt down, blushing heavily as the catcalls continued.

“What did you do that for?” she snarled angrily at him.

“I didn’t realise what it did.”

“Oh, well, that makes it even better! You used a spell and you had no idea what it would do! What if it had been harmful rather than just embarrassing? You could have seriously damaged me.”

He squirmed under her tirade. She had a point but he didn’t think Professor Snape would give him something truly awful, even if his Head of House did loathe Granger and her friends.

She went to stomp off stage but he stayed her arm. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to humiliate you.”

She shot him a glare before tossing her hair. “You could’ve fooled me.”

Draco gazed after her guiltily as she made her way over to her friends, many of whom weren’t bothering to hide their dislike of him. He really hadn’t meant for _that_ to happen.

\--------

Severus eyed how upset his Head Boy was with misgiving. He wasn’t meant to have rushed to Granger’s defence, but react to her angry question by getting defensive and then all hell was meant to break out. That was how it was supposed to have happened. Instead, Draco was now shushing, shouting and docking points off any student who dared make a ribald comment about the Head Girl’s knickers. Granger herself had fled the Hall.

Lupin hadn’t seen the point in continuing the duelling club after that and had dismissed the students, promising them that the club would continue but probably without the Head Students duelling each other.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, Professor, I doubt anyone saw that outcome … well, not many of us, anyway,” a dreamy voice to his side said.

He looked down in the big blue eyes of Luna Lovegood and his eyebrow rose at her temerity to come and talk to him like this. No students volunteered to start a conversation with him – not even his Slytherins.

“No doubt you’re one who did see this happening, Miss Lovegood,” he bit back.

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“If you would be so good as to enlighten me, then?” he asked acerbically.

“They are so very aware of each other and Draco was so protective of her modesty. It’s interesting.”

“Really? I fail to see that.”

She turned her unfocused gaze on him. “Most people do,” she said before drifting off in the direction of the Weasley girl, who smiled smugly at him.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the two friends. Something was going on, and it didn’t help when they passed Albus on their way out and gave him big smiles.

“Ah, is it over already? I had hoped to see some of the duelling,” the Headmaster said, once he’d crossed the Great Hall to the two professors, who were clearing the paraphernalia away.

“Yes, Severus thought it would be a good idea to have the Head Students give a display.”

Oh! How did that end?” the infernally nosy wizard asked.

“With Hermione dangling up in the air with her underwear on show,” Lupin replied.

Albus sent Severus an amused look. “ _Levicorpus_.”

“I thought Draco could do with an edge,” he replied defensively.

The Headmaster smothered a laugh, unsuccessfully.

“At least Draco had the common sense to shield Hermione,” Lupin said.

“He did, did he?”

“Yes, he looked upset to have been the cause of her embarrassment.”

Albus stroked his beard and his eyes twinkled. Severus pursed his lips in distaste. This had not turned out how he’d predicted. Draco had rushed to help the Head Girl instead of standing there laughing and enjoying her discomfort. It was most off-putting. He could see the chivalrous spin Albus was putting on it as well. He was going to have to do something about this. He was not losing this bet.

“Yes, well, _I_ will be picking the duellists next week,” Lupin continued, oblivious to the competitive undertones passing between the Headmaster and his Potions Professor.

\--------

“Hey, Hermione! Wait!”

She turned around and saw Ginny sprinting up the stairs to catch up.

“Hi, Ginny,” she said quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about humiliated? I just had to face a third-year commenting on my knickers. A third-year!”

“Oops! In Malfoy’s defence, I really don’t think he meant for that to happen.”

“That makes it so much better then. But when has Malfoy ever missed a chance to embarrass me?”

“He hasn’t really looked to do that since the fourth year and those Rita Skeeter articles.”

Hermione thought back and realised that Ginny did have a small point. Okay, so their mutual hatred this year had focused on their different methods to get their Head duties done and competitiveness in class.

She shrugged. “ Hmm... I guess you’re right. He hasn’t been pulling my appearance apart for a while now but I bet he still enjoyed that … that _spectacle _today.”__

__“Actually, you’re wrong. He looked shocked and upset by it. You saw how he rushed over to shield you from view with his robes. It was quite chivalrous really.”_ _

__Hermione snorted. “This is Malfoy we’re talking about it. He doesn’t do chivalrous.”_ _

__“It was a turn up for the books, but he really is defending your honour down there. He’s docking points off any student making comments about you.”_ _

__“Really?” she asked, shocked._ _

__Ginny smiled at her friend’s disbelief. “Yes. So far, he’s taken more points off Slytherin in the last few minutes than the rest of the year combined.”_ _

__“Oh!” she said in response. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. If true, then it was an unexpected turn of events. Malfoy had never seemed inclined to do anything like that in the past._ _

__“Well, so he should! It’s his fault that I’m getting all these comments!” she snapped, not sure what to make of Malfoy’s strange behaviour._ _

__“Maybe you should give him a break. It’s obvious that Snape gave him that hex to use and he’s sorry about it,” Ginny said, linking her arm through hers._ _

__Hermione stared off up the Grand Staircase, unseeing. Her thoughts were swirling with the implications of Malfoy actually being nice and defending her. It appeared he had a decent side, after all. _As if you weren’t already aware of that!_ a little voice in her head said._ _


	4. Dates

Severus eyed the handsome, tall Slytherin standing in front of his desk.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Sit down, Zabini.”

His student did, elegantly folding his length into the hard chair that faced his desk. Severus watched him with a critical eye. He might not be the most approachable Head of House (no, that would be the ridiculously soft and soppy Hufflepuff, Pomona Sprout), but he did know the ins and outs of his house - and Blaise Zabini’s reputation as a smooth ladies’ man was precisely what he needed. He usually found the sighs and melting looks that followed the seventh-year Slytherin around nauseating but he planned on using them to good effect.

“What do you know about Ginny Weasley or Luna Lovegood?” he asked, not beating about the bush.

“Er … they’re friends. Weasley has a nasty Bat-Bogey Hex and Lovegood believes in make-believe animals.”

“Is that it?”

“Pretty much. Is there a purpose to this conversation, sir?”

Severus fixed his cheeky student with a baleful stare and was pleased to see that it made the aloof student squirm slightly. Despite recent events, Severus was glad to note that he hadn’t lost his ability to make his students uncomfortable.

“I need you to get close to them … or one of them and work out what they are up to.”

Blaise frowned at him. “How close is close?”

“As close as you can get. The closer the better.”

“So, sir, let me get this straight, you want me to seduce one of them?”

“Seduce is a rather strong word, but I would like to see you put those cheekbones to good use.”

Blaise stared at him, shocked, for several moments. Severus found himself getting impatient. It wasn’t that difficult a request, surely?

“Is there a problem, Zabini? I would have thought this would be easy considering how many languishing girls you leave in your wake.”

His student flushed. “Er … no, it’s just a rather unusual request, sir.”

“Are you a Slytherin, or not?”

“Of course, I am, Professor.”

“Well, then, leave the anguishing over morality to the Gryffindors and do as I ask.”

“Yes, sir. Am I allowed to know why I’m doing this?”

“I’ll let you know when I deem it suitable.”

It was a sign of how strict Severus was with his house that Blaise nodded rather than continue to question. Unlike that pesky Potter, his Slytherins knew when to shut their mouths and follow his orders.

“The Valentine’s Day trip to Hogsmeade is this weekend. I suggest you put it to good use and make one of those girls fall in love with you.”

The handsome Slytherin nodded and made his way out of Severus’ office.

Pleased with how the meeting had gone, Severus pulled the lurid pink cards he’d secreted away in a drawer out and proceeded to write some rather sickening love poetry. It took a while to get it right, but finally he was pleased with what he managed to write. After all, love poems weren’t exactly his forte. He put them inside his cloak and made his way up to the Owlery.

It was time to put his latest plan into progress.

\-----------

Hermione blushed slightly as the owl landed in front of her, the pink envelope failing to disguise what its delivery could be on this day of all days. She detached it from the owl, gave the bird some toast to nibble on and stared down at the envelope.

A week had passed since the Levicorpus disaster and the comments had died down. She had to acknowledge that Malfoy had played a rather large role in that. He’d been ruthless in punishing anyone mocking the Head Girl, for which she had been very grateful. It had blown away any residual anger she felt towards him and they had even shared one or two friendly conversations whilst devising the patrol rota for the Prefects. She had decided it was nice, much better than fighting with him. Although, she did have to put up with Harry and Ron teasing her about it.

“Oooh, look, Harry, Hermione’s got a Valentine’s Day card!” Ron yelled.

She slammed it down on the table, her hand covering it.

“It’s pointless hiding it from us. Aren’t you going to open it, then?” Harry asked, eyeing it curiously.

She glared at her nosy and annoying best friends. It was times like this that she wished she had girls as best friends. They would squeal over her card, not mock and tease.

“I bet it’s from Ferret Boy. I saw him eyeing up her legs last week.”

Ginny smacked her brother around the head. “Leave Hermione alone! Well, are you going to open it or not?” she asked.

Hermione looked at the large pile in front of her pretty, vivacious friend. “When you start opening yours.”

“Deal!” Ginny said, smirking. “I bet it is from Malfoy, though. He looks more than a little interested in it.”

She whipped her head round to face the Slytherin table only to hear Ginny’s giggles. Malfoy wasn’t looking at her at all; he was deep in conversation with Goyle and Zabini.

“Cow!” she responded immaturely.

Ginny winked. “Yeah, but it answered the question of who you wanted it to be from.”

Hermione took back her mental wish for more female best friends. It seemed they were as troublesome as the male variety. “I deny that blatant untruth. I was just curious to see if he was looking. ”

“Yeah, yeah, I believe you, hundreds wouldn’t.”

“Does she really want Malfoy to send her a Valentine’s Day card?” Ron asked Harry in a failed whisper.

She glared at her two best friends, but neither of them paid any attention.

“I don’t know, mate. I’ve given up on trying to read Hermione’s moods when it comes to Malfoy. One minute she hates him, the next, she spends all of Potions gazing at him.”

“I do not!” she protested.

“You did last lesson. I timed you. You spent 12 minutes and thirty-five seconds looking at him.”

Hermione was gobsmacked. Had she really? She had been contemplating some things but she had no recollection that she had been staring at Malfoy. How embarrassing that Harry had caught her. She hoped that the blond Slytherin hadn’t been aware of it.

To find something else to do, she picked up her Valentine’s Day card and opened it.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_I think you’re gorgeous_

_Please meet me at two_

_And be my Valentines_

_(At Madam Puddifoot’s, on Saturday)_

_Love,_

_Your Admirer_

_P.S. I’ll be carrying a red rose_

She blinked as she read it several times. She had an admirer? Why would the person not just sign it? No one really did that whole ‘secret Valentine’s’ thing anymore – did they?

“So, who’s it from?” Ginny asked.

Hermione looked up. “I don’t know. They want to meet at Madam Puddifoot’s on Saturday,” she replied, handing the card over to the youngest Weasley.

“Oooh, that’s so exciting!” Ginny squealed after she read it.

“Have you got any secret admirers in your pile?”

Her redheaded friend turned her mouth down. “No, but I do seem to have a ridiculous amount of fans in the first and second years.”

Ron snorted and swallowed his pumpkin juice the wrong way, resulting in a coughing fit.

“It’s not that funny, Ronald,” Ginny said scathingly.

“It is.”

“At least I get Valentine’s Day cards. I don’t see any owls making their way over to you.”

Ron glared at his sister.

“So, any idea who your admirer is?” Harry asked Hermione, keen to avoid another Weasley argument.

“No, but the writing is familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere.”

“On patrol rotas?” Ginny asked teasingly.

“Ha, ha! It’s not Malfoy,” she responded, not voicing the fact that her heart had sunk a little when she’d realised it wasn’t his handwriting.

“Are you going to go?” Harry asked, gesturing to the proposed date in the card.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, you should,” Ginny said.

“You think?”

“Yes, why not? Besides, aren’t you a little bit curious as to who it is?”

“I could always use Harry’s Invisible Cloak and spy on them.”

“Hermione! That’s mean!” Ginny objected. “They got the guts up to ask you out, you should at least turn up.”

“But what if they’re awful?”

“Then you have an excuse to escape made up.”

“Yeah, you can use Harry’s excuse of having to meet one of us in the Three Broomsticks,” Ron said.

“Hey! That was not an excuse. I really did have to meet Hermione for the Quibbler interview.”

“That’s not how Cho saw it!”

“And it did get you out of a terrible date,” Ginny added.

Harry shrugged, unable to counter that.

“So, that’s settled then. You’re going, and I’ll meet you at 3pm at the Three Broomsticks so you can leave,” Ginny said.

Hermione groaned. Blind dates were awful.

Elsewhere in the Great Hall, a boy opened another lurid pink card and blushed as he read its contents and wondered if Professor Sprout had any red roses.

\----------

“I thought you were taking Astoria to Hogsmeade,” Blaise remarked to his friend.

The blond sighed dramatically. “She started that rumour. I didn’t even ask her out. Ever since Trelawney said that Astoria would marry someone blond and rich, she’s been on my case and won’t take no for an answer.”

Blaise sniggered. “It must be so hard having a good looking girl on your case.”

Draco glared at him. “I thought you’d sympathise. How many girls have tried to waylay you when you’ve been uninterested?”

He sighed. It was true and the attention was unwelcome. He wanted a girl who looked beyond his looks, but apparently they were too dazzling, which meant he usually wanted to strangle them before the first date was even finished.

“Anyway, how come you’re in Hogsmeade without a fan girl in tow?” Draco asked.

“I’ve got something else planned.”

“Oho! You like someone!”

Blaise mentally groaned. Since this stupid assignment from Professor Snape, he had spent the last few days watching both Weasley and Lovegood. He’d soon come to the conclusion that Potter was in love with his best friend’s sister but was struggling to summon the courage to tell her. As far as girls were concerned, the Boy-Who-Lived was pathetic, but it was pretty obvious he’d end up married to the Weasley girl and Blaise had no desire to interfere. That was Draco’s thing.

This left Looney Lovegood and he’d almost lost his nerve, until he realised that whatever punishment Professor Snape could come up with would be worse than spending some time with the weird Ravenclaw.

“Keep your secrets then but I’ll find out eventually,” Draco said.

“No doubt you will,” he replied, resigned to his fate and the laughter that would follow.

He expected some smart arse comment but when he looked to his friend, he realised that he was walking by himself. He stopped and turned around to see Draco was standing stock-still and staring into Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. He looked shocked. Blaise tracked back towards him and looked at whatever had his roommate so fixated. He burst into laugher.

“Is that Granger with Longbottom?”

“It appears so,” the blond replied in a strangled tone.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at his friend in concern. Did Draco have a thing for the bushy-haired Head Girl? On this evidence, it certainly appeared so. He looked tormented by the sight of his counterpart on a date with the school buffoon.

Blaise mentally reviewed the last two years, going back to when the war had ended. It had seen a big change in Draco, who no longer subscribed to the whole blood-supremacy ideology. Narcissa’s actions had played a large role in changing the spoilt blond’s outlook and when he’d returned to Hogwarts for their sixth year, Draco hadn’t uttered the word ‘Mudblood’ once. He’d also steered clear of tormenting Harry Potter and friends. Blaise had thought it was because he’d finally grown up, but then this year had started and Draco and Granger had begun to bicker once more, which Blaise had found really strange on the back of their sixth year. Maybe there was another reason behind it.

“You have a crush on Granger, don’t you?”

Draco whipped his head around in shock. “No, I don’t! I hate her!”

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you look as if someone just killed your owl.”

His friend shushed him before dragging him around the back of the shop, where he leant against the wall, next to the bins and put his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Why didn’t you ask her to Hogsmeade then?”

“Are you crazy? She hates me.”

Draco had a point. Granger was kind and compassionate to everyone but the Head Boy. She turned into a rampaging harpy around the other Slytherin. Then again, Draco was prone to be even more arrogant and insulting around the Gryffindor, so it could mean that she fancied him, too.

“You never know, she might like you. After all, you’ve done a good job in hiding your feelings towards her behind a façade of hate.”

The blond glared at him. “It’s not like I’ve been harbouring some secret crush for years. I’m not even sure when I started to think about her like this. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s not as if I was ever going to do anything about it and besides, she’s seeing Longbottom now. Let’s go and get a drink.”

He watched as his friend walked back out onto the main road, his shoulders slumped. Blaise followed and felt a little helpless as Draco shot one unhappy look towards Madam Puddifoot’s large window before straightening his stance and heading towards The Three Broomsticks. Maybe he would be able to kill two birds with one stone if he managed to get close to Lovegood for whatever reason Professor Snape desired. He might be able to find out exactly what the Head Girl thought of the Head Boy.

\-----------

Hermione had never felt so awkward in her life. When she planned on turning up to meet her secret admirer, she didn’t imagine it would be one of her good friends. This made turning him down and hurting him even more difficult. He had looked so thrilled when she’d walked through the door as well.

“I’ve fancied you since second year,” Neville confessed. “I didn’t dare do anything about it because I never thought you’d say yes.”

Well, that explained the card and the mystery. It appeared that was the only way Neville could screw up the requisite courage to ask her out. But how was she going to let him down gently? She was no good at this type of thing.

She grimaced slightly as Neville reached across the table and clasped her hand. It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, precisely, but the fact that she wished it was someone else’s hand. Someone slightly taller with blond hair and grey eyes.

Stop it! she chided herself. Instead of fantasising about the impossible, she needed to concentrate on how to let Neville down without ruining their friendship.

“Look, Neville, about today-”

“I’ve had a really good time. Maybe we could take a walk around the lake tomorrow?”

“Er … it’s just that-”

“I know, you’ll want to get some studying done but I thought I could take you to see some of the new plants Professor Sprout had delivered. She’s managed to acquire a Dragon’s Flame.”

“You see, it’s just that I don’t … What? A Dragon’s Flame? A real one?”

Neville beamed at her. “Yes, and she’s allowing me to help her look after it.”

“But they are so rare. Where did she get it from?”

“One of her old students works researching magical plants and went to the Kermadec Islands to study the Dragon’s Flame. He was able to collect and keep a couple of specimens and sent one to Professor Sprout.”

Hermione was impressed. “Wow!” she breathed. “I’d love to see one.”

“I’m sure Professor Sprout won’t mind, if I take you to see it.”

She stifled her guilty feelings about leading Neville on. She’d explain the misunderstanding tomorrow. She knew he’d feel really awkward about confessing his feelings for a while and she really wanted to see the Dragon’s Flame.

They were small plants that thrived near the rim of active volcanoes and they would absorb the ash, noxious gases and sometimes lava let off by the volcano, keeping them heated in their core and releasing them when threatened by predators. This was how they got their name and why they were so rare. If they were an animal, Hagrid would covet them.

However, Hermione didn’t want to spend any more time in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It was tacky and other couples were beginning to eat each other rather than the cakes and she was worried Neville would be encouraged and try to kiss her. She didn’t think she could carry the pretence that far.

“I said I’d meet Ginny at Three Broomsticks fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh!” he replied. “I’ll come with you.”

She closed her eyes. She hadn’t wanted him to come but this was Neville. She couldn’t be mean and tell him to go and find someone else to hang out with. As they walked out of the small café, he grabbed hold of her hand and beamed at her. Her heart sank. She was an awful person with no morals. She should tell him now that it was all a misunderstanding. But the Dragon’s Flame, the devil in her mind reminded her.

Hermione sighed. Now, she was under no illusions as to the type of person she was. She was one of those terrible people that used others for things that they wanted. _Slytherin!_ her good conscience hissed at her disapprovingly.

\--------

Ginny eyed the new development happening opposite her with some interest. Blaise Zabini had asked to join their table ten minutes ago and had spent the entire time releasing his charm on Luna, leaving her and a baffled Head Boy to watch.

“So, you plan on going to Sweden to search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack this summer?”

“Oh, yes, my father has saved up especially for this trip. It’s going to be a world exclusive front page on the Quibbler when we find it.”

Malfoy snorted and was obviously about to make one of his trademark nasty comments when Zabini shot him a warning look. The blond Slytherin took a sip of his drink and muttered something under his breath instead. Ginny was fascinated by how this was playing out.

“That’s really great, Luna. What are you planning on doing for the rest of today?”

“Ginny and I were going to pick out a new quill for me,” the Ravenclaw said.

“That’s such a shame. I was hoping to spend a little more time with you,” Zabini replied, leaning in slightly.

Ginny’s eyebrow’s rose. What was the dark Slytherin up to? He’d never shown any interest in talking with Luna before and now he was practically asking her out. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one confused by the look on Malfoy’s face.

“I’m sure you could come with us if you really wanted. I’m looking for a quill the exact colour of a baby Heliopath. They reflect the colours of the setting sun.”

“Have you seen a… er… Heliopath before?” Zabini asked, clearly unsure as to what Luna was talking about.

“Oh no, but Daddy interviewed someone for the Quibbler last year who had and he drew an amazing picture which we published.”

There was more mumbling from the Head Boy, who was restraining himself for the sake of his friend.

“You know, Luna, why don’t you go and look for that quill with Zabini,” Ginny suggested, never one to turn a match-making opportunity down.

“You won’t mind?” the Ravenclaw asked.

“No, besides I’m waiting for Hermione.”

Zabini grinned at Ginny in thanks, before offering Luna his arm. “How about we go now?”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want you to fail after all,” Luna said to the confusion of all.

“Er … what about me, Blaise?” Malfoy asked.

The blond was dismissed with a glance and a languid gesture to the other side of the pub. “You’ll be fine. Astoria’s over there. Why don’t you go and sit with her?”

“A fine friend you are,” the Head Boy called out, receiving nothing but a wave in reply.

Ginny smirked as Malfoy settled down on the bench next to her. “Aren’t you going to join your friends?”

He shot a gloomy look over at the fifth-year Slytherin girls. “No, I’d rather sit with you.”

Ginny looked at the girls, who were now nudging each other and glaring at her. She shrugged. The politics of Slytherin House was none of her business and she couldn’t force Malfoy to move, although why he’d want to sit with her was beyond her understanding.

The door opened and Harry and Ron walked in, clapping and rubbing their hands together to warm them up. They made their way over to the bar to order their drinks and apparently hadn’t seen her yet.

“You never know, seeing you sitting here with me might galvanise Potter.”

“What do you mean?”

Malfoy gave her a knowing look. “Potter’s still madly in love with you.”

“What?!” she screeched, getting the attention of the entire pub, including her brother and his best friend.

The Slytherin next to her chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see in about thirty seconds.”

The two Gryffindors came over. “What are you doing with Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“We’re on a date,” Malfoy said mischievously, slinging an arm around Ginny’s shoulders.

She was frozen in shock but the look on Harry’s face had her pausing. Did he fancy her? Her feelings had never changed towards him but Hermione had told her to stop waiting around for Harry to notice her back in her third year. The next year, her crush had asked out Cho Chang, which had forced her to forget her feelings and start living her life. She’d accepted a date with Michael Corner later that month.

“Are you dating Malfoy?” a feminine voice from behind Ron and Harry asked.

The two boys parted to reveal Hermione, hand-in-hand with Neville.

“What’s it to you, Granger?” Malfoy snarled. “Aren’t you dating Longbottom?”

“Er … well-”

“Neville was your mystery admirer?” Ron jumped in to ask.

“Yes, but-”

“At least if he marries you, there’s a chance his kids won’t be squibs,” Malfoy said cruelly.

Hermione stiffened up as Neville flushed. “Watch what you’re saying, Malfoy!” she snapped at him.

“Oho, hiding behind your girlfriend’s skirt, already, Longbottom?” the Slytherin sneered.

Ginny wanted to bury her head in her hands. Harry hadn’t stopped staring at her since he’d come over and he looked so sad and disappointed. And now, Malfoy and Hermione were close to getting into yet another fight.

“Stop it, the pair of you!” she ordered. “Malfoy, Goyle is calling you from the entrance.”

And luckily he was. Malfoy removed his arm from around her shoulder, took a final look at the quartet of Gryffindors standing around them and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for the drink, Weaselette, I’ll see you around.”

“I can’t believe you’re dating that git. Dad will never forgive you,” Ron said.

“He’s so rude,” Hermione huffed, but she couldn’t look Ginny in the eye.

Harry said nothing but continued to stare at her.

“I’m _not_ dating Malfoy. I was sitting here with Luna when he and Zabini joined. I think Zabini fancies Luna and he went with her to look for that quill she’s been going on about three minutes before you all arrived. And when you jumped to conclusions, Ron, you gave Malfoy the perfect opportunity to wind you all up.”

“Oh!” they all chorused together.

“Exactly,” she replied.

She noted that Harry had cheered up once more and Hermione could finally look her in the eye, the colour in her cheeks abating.

“Zabini fancies Luna?” Ron asked, bursting into laughter.

Ginny sighed, but nodded. Well, the last few minutes had given her plenty to think about, especially when it came to Harry.

Although, first things first, it appeared she needed to straighten Hermione out. What on earth she was doing walking hand-in-hand with Neville Longbottom and masquerading as his girlfriend was beyond her. Ginny obviously needed to step in before everything was messed up and she lost her chance to see Snape dressed in Gryffindor colours.


	5. Misunderstandings

Severus surveyed the depressed expressions of his seventh-year students with glee. A black cloud was definitely hovering over the Potions classroom and he couldn’t be happier. To make matters even more splendid, the Head Students were shooting venomous glares at each other at every opportunity. After a week or so of a tenuous friendship, which he’d watched with misgiving, this was a return to good old times. All he needed now was for them to argue violently and hex each other. He could picture the consternation on Albus’ face already.

He flung the door open, ready to release his students, happy to note that nothing had blown up today, but shuddered as he saw the bane of his Hogwarts teaching career waiting outside. Neville Longbottom.

Never had Severus had a student as hapless as Longbottom and that included Crabbe and Goyle.

“What are you doing here, Longbottom? I thought I’d finally gotten rid of your incompetence.”

Typically, the boy blushed and stammered. “Er … I’m here to wait for Hermione.”

Severus turned to face the Head Girl; whose red cheeks gave her boyfriend’s a run for their money. “Be grateful this is the end of the lesson, Miss Granger, as I do not tolerate personal matters intruding into my lesson.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, subdued and gathering up her personal belongings.

She suffered a setback when Draco barged past her, knocking her bag to the floor, its contents spilling over the classroom.

“Watch it, Granger! I didn’t realise Longbottom’s clumsiness was contagious. I’d be careful kissing him if I were you; you might catch his stupidity, too.”

Severus watched, entertained, as her hands curled into impressive fists. _Go on, Granger_ , he thought, _then I can dock you lots of points._

“Sod off, Malfoy!”

“Gladly,” the Head Boy sneered, looking her up and down with contempt before sauntering out of the classroom.

The rest of the class soon followed, the Head Girl being last, having gathered up all her scattered belongings and looking a little reluctant to go and join her beau. Severus was particularly pleased with the results of his latest ploy. The bet was all but won.

Years ago, when bored, he’d spent one lesson picking through the minds of those students too stupid to know when they were under attack from a Legilimens. Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t provided much entertainment. Their thoughts seemed to focus solely on food. However, Longbottom had provided a good thirty minutes distraction. His pathetic crush on Granger had been vastly amusing. Periodically, he’d dipped back into Longbottom’s mind but the boy seemed to realise that the swotty Gryffindor was way out of his league and had pined for her from afar. Until now.

Severus had come across his successful plan when confiscating two particularly gruesome Valentine’s Day cards from a second-year Hufflepuff. He had then realised the safest way to keep Albus’ plan from coming true would be to play match-maker himself and it appeared to have worked a treat. Granger was now tied to Longbottom and Draco was back to insulting and tormenting her.

His dream of Slytherin domination next year was well and truly back. He smiled widely, ignoring the bunch of first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws waiting for him to start their lesson. They drew back, more than a little afraid of the creepy smile. Would the miserable Potions Master really poison them as he’d threatened last week?

\--------

“What is wrong with you?” Blaise puffed as he caught up to Draco.

“What do you mean?”

“What the hell was that down in Potions?”

“Come on, is there anything more pathetic than Granger and Longbottom?”

He got a stern look from his friend. “You’re not fooling me, Draco. You have a crush on Granger and you’re digging yourself into a deeper hole.”

“So what? It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s dating Longbottom and when this year is over, I’ll never have to see her again.”

“You’re an idiot. I’ve always suspected it but now you’ve given me proof. And you will have to see her again. The UK wizarding community is hardly massive so you’ll run into her somewhere.”

“Not necessarily, and how is this proof?”

“Because Luna says Hermione didn’t know it was Longbottom she was meeting. She received a mysterious Valentine’s Day card and was persuaded by the Weaselette to go and see who it was. She didn’t even realise Longbottom had a crush on her, and if you weren’t so busy burning your bridges, you’d be making her see what she’s missing.”

“How does this change anything? She’s still dating him.”

“She’s dating him because she doesn’t know how to let him down gently.”

Draco stopped his march down towards the lake. “She’s dating him because she doesn’t know how to say no?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then she deserves him if she’s so bloody stupid.”

Blaise sighed. “Are you ever happy? Seriously, I’m telling you that the girl of your dreams isn’t really seeing another boy and, instead of being happy, you’re annoyed that she’s not ruthless enough to tell a good friend where to go.”

“Oh come on! It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. How can I respect such a pathetic, maudlin excuse? Besides, how does this help me out? She’s still dating him.”

“Because she’ll break it off pretty quickly. She probably just needs to find a book called _Ways of Dumping Good Friends Without Hurting Them_.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Good luck to her then. I’ll care when she finally manages to do it.”

“Just lay off before you find that you have no way back into her good books.”

He scoffed but secretly decided to rein in the insults. Seeing Granger with Longbottom in that sappy teashop had been a really big shock. He hadn’t actually planned on ever owning up to his feelings, but when he’d spied the girl he liked sitting opposite another guy, it brought home to him just how strongly he did feel about her. Somehow, in between all the fighting and trips to the Infirmary, the Gryffindor witch had wormed her way into his heart, and it was very inconvenient.

“Anyway, what’s up with you and Looney?”

He watched fascinated as his usually aloof friend’s cheeks darkened. “Nothing,” Blaise replied, off-handed.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. He’d thought that Blaise was up to something when he’d started to chat-up Lovegood, considering he’d never even acknowledged her existence before. But since that Saturday at Hogsmeade, Blaise had become her staunchest defender, shrugging off the teasing he’d received for being seen in her company and generally acting like a gooey-eyed idiot. “You could’ve fooled me if that reaction is anything to go by.”

“She’s different.”

“She’s certainly that! Some would say she’s certifiably insane.”

Blaise frowned. “She’s not mad, she’s just had a weird upbringing.”

“Weird upbringing? I’m surprised she and her dad haven’t been forcibly placed in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s.”

His friend glared at him. “She’s not crazy. Besides, you can’t help who your parents are, and it’s easy to believe what you’re told from a young age. I mean, look at you! You fell for everything your father told you, hook, line and sinker.”

It was Draco’s turn to scowl. “That’s different! Unfortunately, Voldemort actually existed.”

“Is it really, though? I bet if your dad had told you about Crumple-Horned Snorkack’s or Moon Frogs instead of Mudbloods and Muggles, you’d have believed that, too.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

Blaise shot him a disbelieving look, which made him bristle defensively. He wasn’t an idiot or gullible like that Looney bird.

“Keep telling yourself that. Anyway, she’s really interesting once you get her mind off all that Quibbler stuff. And she’s bloody scary with the hexes. Some fifth-years thought it’d be really amusing to start teasing us. The next thing I know, they’re running for their lives with a flock of birds chasing them. Come to think of it, she told me Granger taught her that hex.”

“What’s wrong with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why the hell are we attracted to violent witches? Do we have a death wish?”

Blaise chuckled. “Probably.”

\--------

“Hermione!” Ginny hissed, making the Head Girl sigh and put her book down.

“What, Ginny?”

“When are you going to tell Neville that this is one big misunderstanding?”

Hermione’s heart lurched uncomfortably. She had meant to break it off with Neville the day after Hogsmeade, after they’d been to see the Dragon’s Flame. But that had been a couple of days ago and every time she’d tried to get the words out, he’d looked at her with those big brown eyes shining with happiness. She felt like she would be kicking a puppy.

“I can’t! I feel too mean.”

Ginny groaned. “Hermione! You’re being a hell of a lot crueller by actually keeping up this pretence of a relationship. He actually thinks you’re his girlfriend. What are you going to do when he plucks up enough courage to actually kiss you?”

Hermione put her head down on the library desk, on top of her folded arms. “What am I going to do?” she moaned, her voice muffled.

“Just get it over and done with! The next time I see you, I want to hear how you confessed to Neville and stopped stringing him along.”

With those decisive words, Ginny slammed her book shut and stood up from the table.

“I’m being serious, Hermione. You’re being cruel and unfair to Neville. Yes, he’ll be upset at the beginning, but not as much as he will be in a few weeks time when he realises this has all been an illusion.”

With that parting shot, the redhead disappeared around the nearest stack and towards the exit. Hermione knew her friend was right. She really was being awful to Neville, who was becoming happier and happier by the day, apparently convinced that this wasn’t all a dream. Unfortunately for her, it resembled a nightmare.

And to make matters worse, Malfoy was being an absolute beast. Gone were the friendly smiles and small talk; now it was all curt words and insults. It was a return to the bad old days and she hated the fact that it hurt. Her heart was bruised and, despite not wanting to feel this way about the snarky Slytherin, she did. How had things become such a mess in such a short space of time?

She pushed the disturbing thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on finishing her Astronomy essay. There would be plenty of time to work this out later, but now she needed to get her studying over, especially as she was due to meet Neville in a couple of hours. He was taking her with him when he went to re-pot the Dragon’s Flame. She buried the pang of guilt. She was going to confess everything to him.

\--------

Neville handed her the dragon-hide gloves as they assessed the task ahead of them. It wasn’t going to be easy moving the cantankerous plant to a bigger pot. Professor Sprout was supposed to be here to supervise, but an accident involving Devil’s Snare in her final lesson of the day had landed her up in the Infirmary and the plant had to be moved today or it would die.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Hermione asked once more.

“Professor Sprout gave me permission and it has to be done.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at the plant with some misgiving.

“Don’t worry, I helped Professor Sprout when she had to do this last month so I know what I’m doing.”

She was pleased to hear this, as she usually disliked to do any task without researching it thoroughly first. She didn’t like being in the dark and, despite doing a little extra-reading on the Dragon’s Flame, she hadn’t had time to look into its care requirements.

Greenhouse Number Five had been converted exclusively for the plant’s care, as it needed such specific conditions in which to grow and thrive. Professor Sprout had recreated the greenhouse so it was like living on the edge of a Volcano crater. The heat was immense and if the Herbology Professor hadn’t organised for cooling charms to be cast on every human who entered the greenhouse - in case mischievous younger years decided to break in - then their flesh would have cooked and their blood boiled. It made for a fascinating environment and Hermione did enjoy spending time in here.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

“First things first, we need to prepare the new pot. We need equal measures of soil, dragon dung and volcano ash.”

They worked through this part quickly and quietly. They’d done this so often in the past that it was easy to slip into comfortable habits. Harry and Ron inevitably partnered each other in class, leaving her more often than not with Neville.

Once they’d finished that up, Hermione turned to Neville. “What now?”

“This is the tricky part. As you know, the Dragon’s Flame is vicious when it feels threatened and, unfortunately for us, re-potting it counts as a threat.”

She groaned. “Great!”

“Yeah! So, I’m going to yank the plant up as quickly as possible but I need you to make sure you keep it encased in a Shield Charm so that anything it spits out at us is repelled.”

Hermione shrugged. That seemed easy enough. “I thought this was meant to be hard.”

“It is because the plant will be doing any and everything to repel us and it has some tricks up its sleeve.”

“Like what?”

“It has these tentacles that will shoot out, searching for the boundaries of the Shield Charm, which it can pierce when it finds it. So speed is of the essence.”

“Okay, I reckon we can do this.”

Neville smiled at her. “Enthusiasm - that’s what I like to see.”

She grinned back. They were Gryffindors after all.

\------------

Draco grimaced as Luna trotted up to him and Blaise, as they were taking a walk around the lake.

“Hello, Draco,” she said after giving Blaise a kiss on the cheek.

“Loo … Luna,” he acknowledged back, changing name midway through, thanks to a sharp elbow into his ribs from his friend.

He didn’t like the looks she kept giving him every time he came across her. They were half pitying and half amused. Almost as if she knew something that he didn’t and it was annoying.

“If you two are going to start playing lovebirds then I’ll be off,” he said grumpily.

“Don’t leave on my account, please,” Luna replied.

“Sickening displays of affection are not my thing.”

“Don’t worry, Luna, he’s just bitter because the girl he likes is dating someone else.”

Luna smiled sympathetically at him. “Don’t worry, Hermione isn’t really dating Neville.”

Draco turned to Blaise and kicked him in the shins.

“Ow! What was that for?” Blaised whined, hopping about on one foot.

“You told her?”

“No, I swear I didn’t!”

“Then how does she know?”

“You’ve liked Hermione since halfway through last year. It’s been obvious.” Luna said.

“Huh?” he replied.

“Well, that’s when you admitted it to yourself, anyway. You might well have liked her for longer for all I know.”

“How does she know this stuff?” Draco asked Blaise, confused by her insight.

His friend smirked and shrugged. “Beats me!”

“It’s not magic, Draco. I just observe things that others don’t. You all think I’m crazy but it’s only because I’m not confined by expectations that blind you. That’s why I notice things you fail to see.”

“So, er … what about Granger? Does she like me?”

Luna laughed but shook her head. “Oh no, Draco! I’m not going to tell you that. You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

He scowled and kicked a pebble across the lake’s shoreline. “She probably hates me, anyway,” he muttered.

The Ravenclaw put a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you have some faith in yourself and express your feelings rather than continuously running away?”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Of course it is, but I’m also not the one being made miserable. Try confronting your feelings and her. What’s the worse than can happen? That she’ll say no, but at least you won’t be wondering anymore.”

“Well, the worst than can happen is pretty bad if you ask me.”

She smiled gently at him. “Swallow that pride and go and find her. She’s in Greenhouse number five.”

He hung back, not at all sure that he wanted to follow Luna’s advice. She pushed his shoulder. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco, stop being such a bloody coward and go and ask her out!” Blaise snapped.

He glared at his roommate before sighing, straightening his shoulders and marching off towards the greenhouses.

“So, will she turn him down and laugh at him?” Blaise asked his girlfriend as he watched the stubborn blond making his way back up towards the castle.

“Of course not! She’s liked him for almost as long. Who do you think made him the little Draco?”

“It was Granger? That makes sense!”

“Yes, but sadly for you, you will have failed in your task set by Professor Snape.”

“What?” he asked, eyeing her uneasily.

“To get close to me, so you could hinder my efforts to match-make the Head Students.”

“So, that was what it was all about!” he exclaimed, before he’d realised what he had confessed. He was confused that she hadn’t slapped his face and marched off. “I didn’t kiss you for Professor Snape, though. I mean, I did approach you at the Three Broomsticks because he asked me to, but I found that I actually liked you.”

She snuggled into his arms. “I know that, silly. If you were doing this solely for Professor Snape then I would’ve hexed you and sent you on your way. You’re adorably unsure of yourself when you actually like someone.”

“But why is Professor Snape trying to stop Draco and Granger from being together?”

“You mean apart from his dislike of anyone being happy? He made a bet with Professor Dumbledore that they wouldn’t be dating before the end of the year, and if he loses then he has to wear Gryffindor colours for a day.”

Blaise burst into laughter. “Oh, even if Draco and Granger didn’t like each other, I would push them together just to see that!”

\---------

Draco slowed as he neared Greenhouse Number Five. Was he really going to go through with this? He wasn’t the type to put himself out there when there was the risk of getting shot down. That was behaviour reserved for stupid people and Gryffindors. But yet, here he was contemplating actually asking Granger out - and when she was still technically dating someone else.

If Blaise and Luna were wrong and she really wanted to be Longbottom’s girlfriend, then he was going to hunt them down and Crucio them. He could just about contemplate being rejected, but being turned down in favour of that idiot almost-squib was too humiliating to think about. It would probably scar him for life.

He peered in through the steamed-up window and saw that Granger was there with Longbottom. This was just perfect. He couldn’t ask her out when she was in the presence of her current boyfriend. He was sure it broke several unwritten rules and whilst he wouldn’t usually care about this, he did if she turned him down. Longbottom would be witness to his rejection.

He was about to turn around and go back to the Slytherin common room to sulk when Neville suddenly leaned in, as if he was going to kiss Granger. His jealous side rose. A little hand-holding he could stomach, but he wasn’t about to allow that moron to kiss the girl that _he_ liked.


	6. Snape's Downfall

Re-potting the Dragon’s Flame had been easier than Hermione had imagined. It was probably because she and Neville had worked together so many times over the years that they were attuned to each other’s magic. They soon had the protesting plant in its new, bigger home and had backed away to a safe distance, releasing the shield charm now it was no longer needed.

“High five!” Hermione said, putting her hand up in the air.

It was only when Neville looked at her as if she was crazy that she remembered lots of things didn’t translate across into the wizarding world, and high fives were one of them.

“Er … yeah, never mind. Muggle thing.” she mumbled, a little embarrassed.

She looked across the greenhouse and tried to find her courage. She really needed to tell Neville the truth about their ‘relationship’, but it was easier said than done. However, Ginny was right, the longer she strung this out, the more likely she was to seriously hurt Neville and destroy her friendship with him in the long run. She took a deep breath and was about to speak, when fingers softly tangled in her hair. She jumped and looked at Neville, who was concentrating on pulling something out of her hair.

“Here,” he said, holding up a dead leaf. “It was stuck in your hair.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said, becoming mute when he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Er … Neville, about us-”

She had to stop as he leant down to obviously kiss her. She should have known this moment was coming and been prepared - after all, they had apparently been dating for four days and she’d so far managed to duck out of this. However, she wasn’t and couldn’t help but panic a little, moving backwards and bumping into the table behind them. He followed her over and was about to kiss her, when the greenhouse door banged open.

Neville jumped back and Hermione looked over to see an enraged Head Boy in the doorway, his wand raised.

“Malfoy, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“Get away from her!” the Slytherin ordered, ignoring her question.

Neville just looked confused, but continued to hover close next to her. Apparently this was too much for Malfoy.

“I said get away from her!”

“Have you lost your mind? She’s my girlfriend! Why should I stay away from her?”

The Head Boy had continued to stalk towards them, his wand raised before he reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards him. “Tell him, Hermione!”

“Tell me what?” Neville asked, grabbing her other wrist and attempting to tug her back.

“Okay, can you both stop manhandling me? And have you lost your marbles, Malfoy? What exactly am I meant to be telling Neville?”

“You’re asking me if I’m the crazy one when you’re dating him by mistake?”

Neville scoffed. “Have you been eating something funny, Malfoy? What do you know about our relationship? Right, Hermione?”

He looked at her and saw the blush on her face and narrowed his eyes. She knew that she looked guilty, but she couldn’t help it. However, she was confused as to how Malfoy knew anything about her relationship with Neville, but the fact that he’d stated the truth so matter-of-factly couldn’t be denied, and the guilt couldn’t be suppressed.

“Are you really dating me by accident?”

“No, it’s not like that, Neville,” she said weakly.

“What do you mean ‘not like that’? What is it like?” he asked, letting go of her wrist.

Unfortunately, as he and Malfoy had still been engaged in an undignified tug of war over her, this release meant that she was flung rather hard against Malfoy, who had still been pulling her towards him. He lost his balance and went flying backwards and straight into the newly re-potted Dragon’s Flame.

The plant, never docile at the best of times, reacted as if under attack, and with a loud belch, opened its tentacles and spewed forth a dangerous combination of scalding hot ash, gas and lava that had been incubating inside of it. Neville jumped on top of her, pushing them both out of the way of the flame.

There was an almighty explosion as the noxious cocktail reacted with the humid air and the last thing Hermione remembered was hearing hundreds of panes of glass shatter.

\---------

She regained consciousness in the Infirmary, blinking her eyes against the harsh light.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” a voice said from beside her.

She turned to see the red hair of Ginny Weasley sitting there, Ron and Harry flanking her either side.

“How long have I been out for?” she croaked.

She gratefully accepted the glass of water from Harry and sipped, washing the dry taste from her mouth.

“A good couple of hours.”

“What happened? The last thing I remember is Neville pushing me to the floor.”

“The greenhouse came down on top of you. It took four professors to dig you all out.”

“And Malfoy? He’s okay?” she asked, a little panicked, the image of him laying at her feet, unconscious in the Potions classroom fresh in her memory.

“He’s fine,” a voice in the bay next to her said. “He’s still out cold as he got the worse of it, but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be fine.”

Hermione turned her head and saw Neville sitting up in his bed, half of his face covered in gauze, with a few scratches visible. She felt guilty once more. She’d been so worried about Malfoy that she hadn’t even thought to enquire about Neville, the boy who’d made sure that she was protected in the greenhouse.

Ginny, a lot more sensitive to tense atmospheres than Hermione’s best friends, leant down and pecked her on the cheek. “Anyway, now that you’re awake, we’ll be off. It’s nearly curfew and we’ve already overstayed our welcome with Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry and Ron followed her leave, after crushing her in a hug, and soon Hermione was left alone with Neville and an unconscious Malfoy.

“We need to talk,” Neville said.

She sighed. She really didn’t want to have this conversation, as she was more than aware that she had behaved atrociously towards him, which was something Neville really didn’t deserve.

“I know,” she said quietly, plucking at her blanket.

“Why?” he asked simply.

She didn’t bother trying to dress it up. “I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t feel the same way. You were so happy at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop and I didn’t want to burst your bubble.”

“You were going to have to tell me at some point.”

“I know, I just hadn’t really figured out when. And I really wanted to see the Dragon’s Flame,” she confessed, shame-faced.

He gave a curt laugh and silence fell between them.

“What’s happening between you and Malfoy?” he asked, ten minutes later.

“Nothing!” she replied defensively.

“But you like him?”

Having this conversation with her ex-boyfriend of a few minutes felt really wrong but she owed him the truth.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He smiled, a little bitterly. “Thanks for not lying. I wouldn’t have believed you if you had of course - he was the first person you asked about.”

She flushed. “I know and I’m sorry. You were the one who pushed me to safety and, by the looks of it, got cut up in the process.”

Hermione was saved any further painful conversation by Madam Pomfrey bustling through the door. “Ah, Miss Granger, you are awake. Good.”

The nurse proceeded to do a series of diagnostic spells and at the end proclaimed her fit and well. “It’s remarkable, really,” she commented.

“It’s all thanks to Neville here, he protected me.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled at the Gryffindor wizard, who was a favourite of hers. “Mr. Longbottom was lucky to get off with a few scratches. You are free to go, now,” she said, looking at Neville, who hastily scrambled up from the bed.

“What about me?” Hermione asked.

“Sorry, I would like to keep you in overnight. That was some bump on the head you took,” the nurse said, putting a pair of fresh pyjamas at the foot of her bed.

Neville hesitated. It was obvious that he wanted to say more but not in front of the nurse, who picked up on it straight away. She gave them both an amused look. “Make sure you’re back in Gryffindor Tower before curfew, Mr. Longbottom.”

He nodded his agreement and Madam Pomfrey walked across the Infirmary and into her quarters, shutting the door.

Hermione looked awkwardly at Neville. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he said, coming across and patting her hand.

“Can you forgive me?”

He smiled. “Of course I can. We’re friends first and, to be honest, I never had any hope anyway. These last few days have felt too good to be true, and they were. I can’t be angry at that.”

“You’re a better person than me,” she replied.

“Maybe,” he said.

He hesitated once more before looking over at the sleeping Head Boy. “So, what are you going to do regarding Malfoy?”

She gnawed her lip uncertainly. “I haven’t really thought that through.”

“I suggest you go for it. Take it from me, it’s amazing when what you dream for, but had never hoped to achieve, actually happens. And in your case, I don’t think it will turn out to be an illusion.”

Hermione couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. She pulled him into a fierce hug. “You’re the best, Neville, and you’re going to find someone a hundred times better than I am, who is going to make you so happy.”

He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about me; I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know you are, but I hate that I’ve made you sad.”

His silence was telling and her heart broke a little at the pain she’d caused him. Ginny was right, she had been cruel. He squeezed her hand before turning and leaving the Infirmary.

\-----------

Hermione was listlessly reading on her bed when she heard the change in Malfoy’s breathing. Instead of the deep and slow breaths it had been for the past four hours, it was now laboured, almost as if he was struggling with something. The rustle of the sheets indicated that he was tossing and turning, too.

She slipped her feet into her slippers, protecting them from the cold stone floor and padded her way over to Malfoy’s bed. As she suspected, he was sleeping uncomfortably, as if his dreams were disturbing his rest. It wouldn’t be surprising considering what had happened to them today.

She leant over and smoothed the frown that had gathered in between his eyes. He calmed somewhat, so she settled into the seat next to his bed, summoning her book and clutching his hand with her free one. There was something peaceful about sitting there, in the middle of the night, in silence whilst reading and absently stroking the back of his hand.

It was the sound of a box of chocolates clattering off the bed that pulled Hermione out of her book. She looked over at Draco’s bedside table and saw that the little Quidditch figurine she’d made for him had been left on the table, along with the usual boxes of chocolates and sweets. Little Draco appeared to have just woken up and - from the ruffled state of his robes - it appeared the box that he’d just shoved to the floor had squashed him. She tutted, leant down and picked the box back up, placing it away from the figurine at the back. Mini-Malfoy spotted her then and he jumped on his broomstick to land on the open pages of the book. He seemed very pleased to see her and she opened her palm so he could play there.

“I never did thank you for him,” Draco said.

She jumped and raised her head to see that the little figurine had apparently woken the larger version up. If Hermione didn’t know better then she’d think he was completely fine apart from the bandage around his head, but the flame from the plant had singed half his hair off and resulted in some rather nasty burns that Madam Pomfrey said would take at least twelve hours to heal.

“How did you know it was me?”

He gave her a level stare. “Come on, Granger, who else could produce magic like that? Is any other student at Hogwarts capable of such magic? Besides, look how much adoration he’s giving you. People usually save such behaviour for their creator.”

She blushed but shrugged a little. “Okay, so I made him for you. I felt guilty for nearly killing you.”

“So you should but, lets face it, I nearly killed myself with that Porcupine Quill stunt.”

She was so shocked that he’d actually make an admission of fault that she just stared at him.

“What?” he huffed.

“I don’t think I’ve never known you to own up to something before.”

He scowled. “Don’t get used to it.”

She grinned. “I won’t.”

“So, what happened?”

She faltered. Did he not remember anything? Would he have forgotten basically forcing her to break up with Neville, which hinted at him having feelings for her?

“Er … you came into the greenhouse whilst Neville and I were …”

“I’ve not lost my memory, Granger!” he snapped.

She glared at him. “How was I to know that? You didn’t exactly phrase your question very well.”

“I meant why am I in here.”

“Oh, well, you bumped into the Dragon’s Flame, causing it to attack us and er … you caught the worse of it and you got burnt.”

He patted the top of his head and winced. It obviously hurt to touch even through the bandage. He sighed. “How long do I have to be in here?”

“Actually, it’s not that bad. You have about six hours left for the paste Madam Pomfrey applied to finish working.”

Malfoy wasn’t as impressed as she was by this. Hermione guessed that growing up in the magical world and not experiencing the much slower methods of the Muggle medicine meant this wasn’t quite so amazing.

“Why are you here? I see your boyfriend has gone.”

She flushed at the way he sneered at Neville’s former title but at least it boded well for her. “I’m in here for observation because I hit my head really hard. Neville was able to leave as he just had scratches from the broken glass.”

He nodded curtly and looked away from her.

“And he’s not my boyfriend,” she whispered, looking down at her book, which was still resting on the bed.

“What?”

“We … er … broke up.”

The Head Boy narrowed his eyes at her. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Yes, well, it was a bit silly to continue once he realised that it was just a misunderstanding.”

For a brief moment, Malfoy did nothing, and then he sprung, his quick reflexes taking her by surprise. She squeaked as he hauled her onto the bed, tucked her into his side and kissed her. She froze in shock before softening her lips and returning the kiss.

He lifted his head and smirked down at her. He seemed content to just stare at her, rubbing a hand up and down her side. She wasn’t letting him get away with that. She wanted a declaration of feelings.

“What was that for?”

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. “I would’ve thought that was obvious.”

“Not really, when you consider we’ve spent the best part of this year trying to kill each other.”

“Suppressed feelings,” he muttered vaguely.

“That’s not going to cut it.”

“Cut what?”

“This,” she said pointing from him to her. “Considering I ended up dating someone for four days because of my inability to tell him how I really feel, you’re going to have do better than that.”

“Trust you to want to do this the hard way.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “When do I ever make your life easy?”

“You have a point,” he grumbled before taking a big breath. “Okay, Granger, I like you, I want to date you and be your boyfriend.”

She patted his cheek condescendingly. “See, that wasn’t hard!”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not in danger of being rejected.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Malfoy, because I like you, too,” she said before leaning up to kiss him once more.

\---------

Someone clearing their throat had Draco opening his eyes. His left arm was completely dead and it was only the lessening of the heavy weight on it that brought it back to life. Painful, stinging life, as pins and needles shot through the limb.

“Ouch,” he moaned, as he shook it. “That’s the last time I squash into a hospital bed with you, Granger.”

She glared at him.

“Good morning, children,” a voice at the foot of the bed said.

They both turned guiltily towards the Headmaster, who was smiling.

“Er … Professor, it isn’t how it looks,” Granger lamely lied.

“I must admit, I’m pleased that the pair of you are getting on a lot better than the last time either of you ended up in the Infirmary.”

“What can I say? Granger saw the error of her ways.”

“Malfoy!” she shrieked, whacking him on his left arm, which was still throbbing.

“Careful!” he snapped, rubbing it.

“Prat,” she bit back.

He smirked and kissed her.

The chuckle from the Headmaster halted them. “I see some things never change. At least you’ll enliven Hogwarts in a less explosive way.”

Granger blushed adorably, and Draco decided there and then that kissing her in front of professors was going to be the most fun he’d had in years. He couldn’t wait to try it in front of Professor Snape. He couldn’t work out who would be more scarred, the Head Girl or the Potions Master.

“Anyway, I wanted to check that my Head Students are okay after landing themselves in the Infirmary once more,” Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

The door opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled in, a parade of potions, pastes and bandages floating in behind her.

“Ah, Madam Pomfrey is here. I’ll leave you at her mercy. I’m sure I’ll see you both later in the day,” Professor Dumbledore said.

\-----------

The loud whispers and exclamations alerted Severus to the fact that something momentous was happening at Hogwarts. He looked up from the lunch he was currently eating to stop as he saw the Head Students enter the Great Hall hand-in-hand.

His stomach twisted, suddenly nauseous as he realised the implications of this. He narrowed his eyes and turned towards Albus, who was sitting there watching him, his eyes twinkling.

“Well, Severus, you lose.”

“It’s just a bit of hand-holding – that doesn’t prove anything. They could’ve seriously injured each other, or been stuck together by magic gone wrong,” he conjectured desperately.

The chants of “Kiss! Kiss!” from the student body had Severus turning his head to face the irritating pair once more.

Draco – drat the boy! – decided to live up to his melodramatic nature and to the delight of everyone in the room, bar Severus, had swept Granger off her feet and into a passionate clinch.

His dreams of Slytherin domination melted away at the disgusting display.

He got to his feet. “Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger!” he bellowed. “Stop that at once! Detention with me, tonight at seven.”

The boos rang out around the Hall and Severus scowled as the two lovers took affectionate leave of each other, touching hands before turning to sit at their respective tables.

“I do believe you were the very reason they started dating, Severus,” Albus said, infuriatingly smug.

“What? How?”

“It was you who organised that rather clever ruse to have Hermione meet Neville Longbottom on Valentine’s Day. I won’t ask how you knew the boy harboured a crush on the Head Girl, but I do ask that you don’t use those methods on the children in the future.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t, Severus,” the Headmaster said, amused. “But anyway, it was thanks to the short-lived relationship between Hermione and Neville that Draco finally got up the courage to confront his counterpart about his feelings for her.”

Damn and blast it! How had this all gone so terribly wrong?

“And I must commend you for encouraging inter-house relationships. I believe Blaise Zabini is now dating Luna Lovegood. It’s nice to see the school mingling so well and putting the past behind them.”

Severus’ eyes sought out Blaise, who was currently clapping Draco on the back and blowing a kiss across to the Ravenclaw table towards Looney Lovegood. It appeared there was no such thing as decent minions anymore.

“I do believe you will be dressing a rather more colourful fashion tomorrow. I have taken the liberty to have some robes delivered to your rooms. They should be waiting for you on your bed.”

Severus pursed his lips as he saw how brightly Albus’ eyes were twinkling. He was never going to live this down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Neville, he was thoroughly used in this story but I like to think that special someone is just around the corner.


End file.
